The Fine Print
by JCI
Summary: A simple clause in the fine print of Emily Kmetko's scholarship changes everything, for everyone.
1. Chapter 1

The pictures were damning to say the least. Marty recognized himself easily and Ronnie was perhaps even clearer. Tanner's PI was thorough. He winced as he flipped to the last photograph, there was absolutely no way he was going to let these pictures be leaked. He wouldn't let that happen, not to Ronnie and not to Kaylie.

"What is it you want?" he asked, eyes trained on the pictures, wondering where it all went wrong. Why he was arrogant enough to believe they wouldn't be caught eventually. His jaw twitched, wanting to reach over the desk and wipe that smug, satisfied expression off of Steve Tanner's face.

"Okay," Steve said, victory flashing in his eyes for a moment. "Just got off the phone with the Denver club," he said, his momentum building easily as he rose from his chair and smiled. "They are very interested in your services. And you won't be alone. You'll be taking Lauren, plus your fourth through seventh ranked girls. I've already talked to their parents they think it's a wonderful opportunity."

He paused to take a breath, building up the dramatic tension, obviously leading up to his exit, but Marty interrupted.

"And Emily," Marty said, more caught up in his own thoughts than what Tanner was spewing.

"Kmetko?" Steve said, with a condescending chuckle. "Marty, you seem to be missing the point."

Marty raised a hand. "Tanner, I'll be going to Denver, but I'll be taking Emily Kmetko with me. She has a scholarship contract with the NGO. She goes where I go."

"The girl who just beat out my daughter today, the reason all of this is happening in the first place, that's the one you want to take with you? Not Payson or," Steve hesitated before smiling wickedly, "Kaylie."

It took every ounce of will power Marty possessed to remain in his chair and not wring Steve Tanner's neck.

"It's not a matter of want," he bit out between clenched teeth. "The NGO has a contract with this girl. I agreed to coach her for the duration of her elite career. You're a lawyer, Steve, you know how these things work better than I do, so unless you want the NGO breathing down our necks at Denver…" Marty trailed off, finally getting his feet back under him. It was the truth. Emily's scholarship was contingent upon his coaching her and though he supposed she could try and find another coach to sponsor her scholarship, though that was highly unlikely.

Steve raised his hands in surrender. "She's not better than Lauren, you and I both know that."

"But she's a contender for the National team," Marty filled in, not wanting to get into a debate about who had the potential to be a better all around gymnast, "and will make the team surrounding Lauren that much stronger. You know how important that is."

"Done," Steve said, nodding in satisfaction, "But just so we're clear, at Denver, could you make sure Lauren goes in the top three?"

Marty looked away and closed his eyes, his stomach churning from what felt like agreeing to a deal with the devil.

"Thanks, pal," Steve said with a mocking grin and leaving the office.

His stomach lurched again and he took a slow deep breath to steady it. Marty looked back down at the pictures. They were explict, no doubt about that. It would be a national scandal, pop superstar Ronnie, wife of baseball player Alex Cruz has affair with daughter's gymnastics coach. It was a Lifetime movie waiting to happen. It would destroy Ronnie's marriage, whatever was left of it and worst of all, it would likely destroy Kaylie's career.

Leaving his girls just six weeks before Nationals would be horrible, but exposing them to that kind of scandal was unforgiveable. This was the lesser of two evils.

Emily would be just fine. He would drive her back and forth to Denver if he had to, though it was unlikely she'd let him. She'd be more likely to take the bus. If he'd learned anything about that girl in the forty-eight hours she trained at the Rock it was she was fiercely independent. Two days in Colorado and she would go from a virtual gymnastics nobody to the number one girl at Denver Elite. Despite her new forty-minute commute, he imagined that news might lessen the blow of changing gyms.

The world was a crazy place, made even crazier by Steve Tanner's inability to simply allow his daughter to succeed and fail on her own merit.

Lauren would remain under his guidance and hopefully he would be able to dissuade whatever instincts she had that would call this move a victory for her. She was a talented gymnast, but as a person she was approaching irretrievably spoiled. Hopefully he could push her towards the Olympic podium and instill some of the values her father failed too.

And Payson. That perhaps hurt the most. He convinced the Keelers two years ago to pick up their lives and move to Boulder, Colorado. Payson won the junior national championship in 2008, a year too young for Beijing, but all the gymnastics experts weren't thinking about Beijing, they were thinking about London. Now two years later she was the best gymnast in the country, poised to become National and likely World Champion. And now he was leaving her. Just before she would fulfill her potential.

Marty swallowed harshly, a fist clenching against his thigh. Payson would be okay. She was uncommonly strong with a level of mental toughness that amazed him on an hourly basis.

Mental toughness, however, was not Kaylie's strong suit. It was the mental game that kept her from reaching that next level as a gymnast and being abandoned by her coach, it might be too much for her.

He shook himself for being an idiot. Kaylie would be fine. He wasn't her father, no matter how many times he wished differently. And he was doing this _for_ her. If he didn't leave, her family, her entire world, would crumble and her gymnastics career along with them and he would not allow that to happen.

With a sharp exhale, Marty stood from his desk, what would soon be someone else's desk and his eyes caught upon a photograph on the wall. It was taken at last year's nationals, Lauren, Kaylie and Payson, wearing their National team jackets, though it had little meaning in the year following an Olympics, with Payson's silver medal hanging around her neck. They were smiling widely, flush with the thrill of their first senior nationals.

Now, less than a year later, everything was different. He glanced around looking for a box to pack up some of his personal items, but then changed his mind. Steve Tanner engineered this insanity; he could come back and collect his things for him. He pulled on his jacket and left the office without looking back. His only thought was getting home and pouring himself a stiff drink or ten, then passing out.

Everything was going to change and he had no idea what would happen next.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yes, this is exactly what it sounds like. It's a reboot of the entire series. No I'm not joking and yes, it might kill me. Despite this prologue being from Marty's point of view, after the prologue we will only be hearing from Payson and Sasha in alternating points of view. If you've read _Lost and Found_, you know what I mean, though in this case it will likely be both points of view in the same chapter, rather than every other chapter.

I have the first arc of the story, through Nationals, planned out for the most part and I'm really excited about it. So, what do you guys think is going to happen? Emily and Lauren at Denver Elite with Marty and Payson and Kaylie at the Rock, with no coach at all. Predictions? Frustrations? Hopes? Let me know what you think and settle in, this is going to be a bumpy ride.

And just to clarify, I'm not going to abandon, _Chasing Glory_. I've found I do better when I'm writing more than one story at a time. If I'm not inspired for one, I go write the other and then inspiration returns for the former.


	2. Chapter 2

"You know listening to other people's phone conversations isn't right," Payson said, frowning up at her ceiling sprawled across her bed while her sister sat at her desk ear pressed to the phone attempting to breathe silently.

Becca disconnected herself from the phone call, pushing the end button as lightly as possible so as not to alert the call's participants, namely her mother, that she'd been listening in. "Boring anyway, they're just talking about you and Houston and how much Helen Bates would love to have Mom in her book club. She hasn't actually come out and asked if we'd come to Houston yet, but you know that's coming in a day or two."

Payson rolled over and buried her face in a pillow. "We're not going to Houston, Becca."

Becca frowned at her. "Yeah, that's what Dad said after the first time you asked to move to Boulder and here we are."

"I don't want to train in Houston," Payson said, more to herself than to her little sister. "The Rock is a great gym. I'm the second ranked gymnast in the country, Kaylie's eighth. There's got to be a coach out there who's looking for a job."

"Right before Nationals?" Becca pressed, walking over to the window and peeking out of Payson's blinds. "The reporters are finally all gone. That was insane this morning."

Payson sat up and sighed. "Yeah it was. At least they hadn't heard Marty left, along with our number three and four gymnasts."

"Plus five through seven," Becca added helpfully.

"Right, our entire second flight," Payson reminded herself. She wasn't all that concerned about the loss of talent. Lauren was a great beamer, but not much else and Emily was raw and untested, though she obviously had a lot of natural ability. She was more worried about finding another world-class coach a little less than two months out from Nationals. Maybe Houston wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Becca sighed from the window. "When you make a million dollars can you get me my own phone line?"

Payson snorted, pulling on her sneakers. "Why would you want that? Then you won't be able to listen in on other people's phone calls," she teased lightly.

"Shut up," Becca protested.

"I'm going for a run. Be back in a little bit."

"Think about the phone line?" Becca called to her back.

Payson just raised a hand in acknowledgement and managed to slip out of the house without her mother calling her into the kitchen to talk about everything that went on in the last twelve hours.

The earplugs from her iPod pressing firmly into her ears, she moved out towards the end of the driveway, pulling one leg back behind her and then the other, stretching out fully, rotating her back and core muscles, rotating her ankles as the music pounded into her ears.

Her feet kept a steady pace as she approached Chautauqua Park's trail, the same trail she ran every morning. Her run was postponed this morning however with the dozens of reporters camped out in the front yard. Usually she let her mind go blank as she scaled the hills and valleys or visualized a new skill, but today was just a jumble of disconnected thoughts, everything coming back to one simple thing. She did everything right. Everything.

She trained hard, she focused, she gave up most carbs and fat and sugar, she moved her family a thousand miles, she had a stress fracture in her ankle, a knee that would likely need reconstruction after the Olympics, a herniated disc that sometimes made any movement at all painful and all for what? So her coach could walk out on her seven weeks before the biggest event of her life?

This was supposed to be her year. After finishing second at Nationals last year, thanks in large part to that herniated disc forcing her to downgrade her routines and then missing out on Worlds because her back specialist recommended a complete shutdown after Nationals, this was supposed to be her coming out party. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

Just twenty-four hours ago she was on top of the world or at least at the top of the Rock.

The in-house competition had little meaning in the scheme of things, but Marty wanted her to try out her new vault before they went to Boston. It new skill entirely and it would bear her name once she competed it internationally. Yesterday, she stuck it cold.

The vault went off without a hitch, as did the rest of her routines, aside from a wobble or two on beam, but the joke was on her. She dominated the competition, but winning meant nothing now that she lost her coach.

Payson felt the anger building again and was thankful she was approaching a steep incline, letting the adrenaline pump through her system, powering her up the hill. Marty Walsh was gone. Poof! Just like that. And he took Lauren with him.

Why would he take Lauren with him? Lauren was a good gymnast all-around, especially when she nailed her beam routine, but she'd never noticed any particular bond between her and Marty. And Emily, that explanation was easy enough, she was Marty's pet project, someone he could mold from start to finish, unlike the nearly finished product she was when she arrived from St. Paul two years ago.

So really the question was, why not her? Why hadn't he asked her to join him at Denver? It wasn't too far of a commute. He convinced her parents to move a thousand miles away from everything they knew, but he couldn't be bothered to ask her to commute forty minutes every morning?

It didn't take a genius to figure out Steve Tanner had something to do with the move. Maddy Wells, one of the juniors headed to Denver called the house earlier asking if Becca was going too. Steve Tanner was the one that extended her parents the invitation. So was this all because Lauren finished fourth at the in-house meet?

Payson rolled her eyes. If it was true, it was ridiculous. Had Steve Tanner bribed Marty or something? Lauren had already qualified for Nationals earlier that year. The placements were meaningless. Marty used them as motivation, but the judges wouldn't care. No one was going to hold a slip off of beam during a random competition against Lauren at Nationals. And yet something told her that she was on the right track. Lauren was her friend, but she was also a spoiled brat and she freaked out when Emily showed up.

She reached the top of the hill and inhaled sharply, the thin mountain air filling her lungs. Boulder really was a spectacular place to train. The high elevation kept her endurance at a level that far surpassed that of most other gymnasts. She had no intention of going to Houston, no matter how much Helen Bates badgered her mother.

Now she just needed a world-class coach to pop up out of the woodwork and take her to that next level.

Rolling her eyes at herself, Payson started back down the trail, feeling that anger build again. Marty was supposed to be her coach, they were supposed to go to London, together. He was always preaching about how the Rock was a family and that they had to work together because the only thing that would get them through the most difficult training in the world was if they did it as a team, if they leaned on each other.

Apparently that was just total crap.

Now that team was broken. It was only her and Kaylie competing at the elite level and Kaylie's focus had never been entirely on her gymnastics, especially not this last year or so. After last year's Nationals Kaylie stopped staying late, stopped upping her degree of difficulty and while she was still her friend, Payson lost some respect for her. Kaylie had a lot of potential she wasn't tapping into and that was something she couldn't understand.

Her feet hit with satisfying thwacks against the sidewalk, as she left the park and made her way towards home. A sudden twinge, followed by a dull ache in her lower back had her moving into the street where the asphalt would be kinder on her joints and her ridiculous herniated disc.

She smiled to herself and shook her head when she saw her father waiting at the door to the house, holding a water bottle out for her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip.

"You okay, kiddo?" he asked, studying her carefully.

Payson looked up at her dad and shrugged heavily. His arm went around her shoulders as they walked into the house together and she leaned into her father's side. He bent down and placed a warm kiss at the top of her head.

"I'll be alright, Pay. We'll figure it out," he said, reassuringly, but Payson knew this was one problem her dad couldn't just fix the way he could a scraped knee or a missed routine when she was little.

With one last reassuring squeeze, her father lifted his arm from around her shoulders and moved into the kitchen where her mother was preparing dinner.

Making her way to her bedroom to grab some clothes to change into after her shoulder, she saw her phone vibrating on her nightstand. With a sigh she checked it and there was her Twitter feed blinking back at her.

**LoTanner:**_ Gonna rock the beam at Denver Elite! Me n Marty r going to London '12!_

Payson huffed out a breath and shook her head. So much for keeping Marty's departure a secret, now the whole world knew.

* * *

><p>He heard the car crunching up the rocky drive followed by the car door slamming. Then her voice, grating even at a mumble and much more so in real life than over voice mail, complaining about her heels getting caught in the path leading to his front door. He heard her knock over and over again at the solid oak of his door.<p>

He simply stood in silence, lining his fishing rod, running the new line down the rod and opening the bail to tie a knot onto the reel.

Finally he heard her making her way around the back of the house, in his general direction.

"Mr. Belov," she called out.

Sasha spared her a glance, keeping his expression empty before turning back to his fishing rod.

"I don't appreciate being ignored, Mr. Belov. I've left several messages as have a few of my associates."

Sasha smirked to himself remembering the exasperated message MJ Martin left him practically begging him to call back Sheila, mostly so she would stop calling _her_. It was less than cordial and certainly not in any way persuasive, but he'd been amused by it nonetheless. The woman was persistent; he'd give her that.

"The reason I haven't returned your call, Mrs. Baboyan or those of your _associates _is because I have no interest in your offer. I didn't last year or the year before and I certainly don't now," Sasha said, balancing the fishing rod on the picnic table behind him and taking up a hook.

"No interest?" Sheila said, in disbelief. "You're the greatest coach this sport has ever seen. Better than your father or Nicolai Kaboyi or Bela Karolyi or any of them and you're just out here gathering dust."

"Actually I'm out here fishing," he said, frustrated that the woman would not take a hint.

Sheila Baboyan, mother and manager of Kelly Parker, had been attempting to draw him back into competitive gymnastics on and off for a few years now. Every time she and her daughter alienated another gym, first Boston, then Seattle and now Houston, her voice would echo in his voice mail. This was the first time she actually showed up on his doorstep however and despite himself, he was intrigued.

"Kelly is a fine gymnast, Mrs. Baboyan and I'm sure you'll find another gym soon enough. I'm sure there are one or two you haven't totally alienated."

The woman cackled, actually cackled at his response and he turned to her, brow furrowed in derision. She was taking this whole wicked witch of gymnastics things a little too far.

"I've already found a gym for my Kelly," Sheila said.

Sasha grimaced and nodded at her. "Fantastic, now if you don't mind, I'm busy."

"Yes, I can see that…_fishing_," Sheila said, before smiling widely. "My ex-husband is fisherman."

"That's nice," Sasha responded disinterestedly.

"He taught me the key to fishing is having the right lure," Sheila said, her tone purposefully casual. Sasha saw through her game quickly enough.

"And what's your lure, Mrs. Baboyan?" he asked, unable to help himself. Perhaps if he indulged her a little she'd go away.

She was obviously thrilled at finally getting his full attention. "The twenty first century is an extraordinary time, full of marvelous things like cars that can tell you which way to turn and computers that can look up any information you need after just a few keystrokes."

Sasha raised an eyebrow impatiently and she seemed to take a hint. "The twenty first century is also home to social media, Mr. Belov. Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, where everyone can share everything about themselves with everyone else."

"Your point?"

"Yesterday there was an extremely interesting tweet from Lauren Tanner, formerly of the Rocky Mountain Gymnastics Training Center."

The Rock. While he had zero intention of getting back into the coaching game, that gym had intrigued him for years now. His old friend and rival Marty Walsh had built a powerhouse of a team leading up towards the London 2012 games. Then what Sheila said sunk into his mind fully.

"Formerly? Lauren Tanner left the Rock?" he asked, again curiosity getting the better of him. It was a loss for the club to be sure, but with Payson Keeler and Kaylie Cruz, Marty still had a strong team.

"Not just Lauren Tanner," Sheila said, pausing he supposed to try and build up the suspense of her reveal. "Marty Walsh took Lauren Tanner and his entire second flight of gymnasts to Denver Elite."

Sasha snorted. "That's ridiculous. Why would…"

Sheila shrugged. "Scuttlebutt is that size obsessed, toady father of Tanner's has something on Walsh. Not that it matters. The Rock is down a head coach and I'm offering you the best club team in America, the current 8th, 2nd and 1st ranked gymnasts in this country, three girls who will likely be on the Olympic team in London and all you have to do is say yes."

"No," Sasha said succinctly.

"No?" Sheila echoed, clearly in shock.

"No, Mrs. Baboyan. I appreciate the offer, but if I were to get back into coaching it wouldn't be by putting myself under the thumb of some power hungry mother-slash-agent-slash-publicist. No offense," he added with a shrug.

"None taken," Sheila, said, obviously aware of exactly who she was and how she came off to people. "That's not what I'm offering you. The Rock is a private facility with a board of directors. The coach runs the gym conjointly with the board appointed gym manager under the general oversight their board president."

"Thinking of getting into politics?" Sasha asked, still skeptical of her motivations.

"Absolutely not," she scoffed. "I'm Kelly's agent and head of KPE, I don't have time to play nice with the gym moms. Alex Cruz is president over there and he's welcome to the job."

"KPE?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the meaning of the acronym.

Sheila rolled her eyes. "Kelly Parker Enterprises."

"Ah, of course," Sasha said, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry you wasted your time, Mrs. Baboyan."

Sheila snorted. "Go fishing, Sasha," she said, using his first name familiarly. "Think about it. I'm at the Cambria Pines Lodge and my flight leaves at noon tomorrow."

Sasha turned back to his fishing tackle as Sheila walked back out around the house. He heard the car door open and close and the engine turning over before she pulled a U-turn and went back the way she came.

It was a tempting offer, the most tempting offer he had since the Romanian national team had offered him his father's old job. The Rock housed two incredibly talented gymnasts, add to that the current National Champion and it certainly had Sasha thinking.

Kelly Parker was an excellent gymnast. The eighteen-year-old national champion was a confident all-around gymnast and could be depended upon to hit a routine when you needed her to. She peaked a year too late for Beijing and a few years too early for London, but she was very likely to make the Olympic squad, simply because consistency in international competition was the most valuable commodity of them all.

Kaylie Cruz was a dynamic natural gymnast with the ability to charm any audience she performed for, even at times the judges. It puzzled him why Marty hadn't pushed her harder, since she was capable of much more than her current performances would indicate, but the promise of untapped ability tugged at his coaching instincts. There was more to her than her smiles and cutesy routines he was sure of it.

Then there was Payson Keeler, plagued by injury the last couple of years, when he looked at her he could already see her standing on top of the podium in London. She had it all, difficulty, precision and the drive, but there was something else about her that drew him in. His mother, before she married his father, was a ballet dancer and from a young age, Sasha was exposed to more than one ballerina. That's how Payson Keeler looked to him, like a ballerina, though any gymnastics expert would likely laugh at his assessment. It was in the line of her neck, the drop of her shoulders, the flex of her wrists, and most importantly in her natural turn out and demi-pointe. Things his gymnasts in Romania always had in spades, things most American gymnasts lacked and what international judges loved. Combining her current abilities with the grace buried deep within her, Payson wouldn't simply be at the top of the podium in London, she would join the greats of the sport.

Sighing, Sasha laid his fishing line down on the table again and pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket.

"Yes, can I have the number for the Cambria Pines Lodge in Cambria, California?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** One thing that always bothered me about the second episode of the series was that Lauren, in all her smugness, didn't shout from the highest rooftops that she was getting the hell out of Boulder, along with one of the best coaches in the country. Keeping silent about it just isn't something she would do.

It also struck my notice that Kelly Parker was looking for a new gym right around the time Sasha arrived at the Rock. In this little universe, Sheila jumped on the news that Lauren broadcasted to the gymnastics world and got on the first plane out to California. We're about a week or so ahead of "show time" so to speak because in my head Kaylie and Payson's little trip to Denver happened about a week post-Marty and Lauren's departure. There are also some little details here that will become important later on in the story! You know me, I plant the seeds early!

Again, this fic will be told solely from Sasha and Payson's point of views, but we most definitely will be checking in with all the characters and their storylines will be addressed, if not the focus of the plot.

Lastly, I shamelessly stole the two years Sleeping_Rory put on Kelly's age. In this little universe, KP is eighteen, two years older than our Rock girls.

Don't forget to review! You know how much I love feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

"Not everything goes your way all the time, Payson and its how we act in those moments that shows the world who we truly are," her mom said as her dad steered their station wagon into the Cruz's driveway.

"Mom, I know, please can we just drop it?" she asked, her head lolling back against the headrest in frustration.

She knew she was out of line earlier. She tried to clear her head, to focus and keep working towards her goals, but her irritation boiled over during practice. The gym was in chaos, kids running wild, coaches pulling out their hair just trying to do their jobs and no matter how hard she tried it was impossible to regain the focus she possessed only days before. She apologized to Pete, the assistant coach she reamed for not having three Olympic gold medals. He was fine about it and they got back to work on her squaring her hips, throughout her beam routine, which was really a ridiculous problem to be rearing its ugly head this close to nationals, but her parents had not stopped talking about her outburst since practice ended.

"Your mother and I just want you to prepare yourself for what's coming next, a coach's worth isn't measured by how many medals he or she won. Some of the best coaches in the world weren't elite athletes themselves. Vince Lombardi, the greatest football coach to ever live…"

"Never even played professionally," Becca and Payson finished in unison in the back seat.

Despite hailing from St. Paul, Minnesota, dedicated Viking's country, Mark Keeler was raised a Green Bay Packers fan by their Lombardi-worshipping Grandpa. And that translated into many life lessons relating back to the great coach and his philosophies on football that their dad referenced with predictable regularity. Payson shot Becca a grin and they both tried to stifle the laughter at their dad's expense, though a giggle or two escaped.

"Have I said this before?" Mark teased, as he parked the car.

"Only several thousand times, hun," Kim said, patting his leg lightly before climbing out of the car. "Holy crap! Where are Blake and Crystal?" she asked, making a vague reference to what Payson assumed was bad television from the 1980s.

Payson was pretty sure her parents had never been to the Cruz house despite living in Boulder for nearly two years. "Told you it was nice," Payson said, opening the front door.

"Nice," Mark said, indicating the understatement of Payson's assessment. "I've failed you as a husband."

"Shhh," Kim hushed him reassuringly. "We have a stackable washer and dryer."

Payson rolled her eyes at her parents' usual witty interplay. It was amusing when it was just the four of them, but out in public it was just embarrassing.

"Ronnie!" Mark called out as Kaylie's mom came towards them, a bright smile on her face. "Nice digs."

Payson smiled tightly in their direction before making a sharp left and climbing the stairs towards Kaylie's bedroom. She only hoped that Kaylie was still up for a trip to Denver. Despite her father's Vince Lombardi analogy, Payson wanted a coach who knew what it took to compete at the highest levels, someone who could understand her dream and traveled the road she was about to embark on. There was no substitute for that experience as far as she was concerned. Lombardi was the exception, not the rule.

Opening the door to Kaylie's miniature palace of a bedroom, she smiled. "Hey."

"Hey," Kaylie said, nodding towards her magazine, an ancient copy of _World __Gymnast_. "C'mere, look, this is Marty when he won the silver. Wasn't he cute?"

Payson ignored Kaylie's last question, having never considered their coach anything other than their coach. "He was amazing," she said, commenting on his gymnastics instead.

She looked down at the magazine where a picture of Marty at the 2000 Olympics, chalking his hands before a routine was featured next to a picture of him on the podium after the All-Around finals. Payson wasn't just a gymnast; she _loved_ the sport and knew a lot about its history. She read every book, memoir and biography she could get her hands on when she was younger and she recognized the other young man in the picture immediately. Now, if they were going to label someone as cute…

"Who's that with the gold?" Kaylie asked, cutting off her train of thought.

Payson inwardly rolled her eyes. How could Kaylie_not_ know who that was? Sure, they were only seven during the Sydney games, but Payson remembered nearly every detail of that competition, aided by the old VHS tapes she made of the event which she watched over and over again for the four years leading up to the Athens games.

"That's Sasha Belov," she said. "He was the only person to ever beat Marty."

Kaylie nodded. "Yeah? Whatever happened to him?"

"I don't know," Payson said, wrinkling her nose. No one did. "He kind of disappeared," she said, leaving out the part about coaching the Romanian gymnastics program to ten medals, four of them gold at the 2004 Olympics in Athens.

Finally, not being able to hold it in anymore, she said. "So? Are we going to go to Denver?" It was the reason she insisted on coming to this meeting in the first place.

Kaylie smirked. "I thought you might chicken out," she said, rolling over and bouncing off her bed, grabbing her jacket.

"No way," Payson said, shaking her head with a smile. "Are you chickening out?" she asked, thinking that maybe Kaylie wouldn't want to risk getting her car taken away for driving all the way to Denver.

"No way," Kaylie said. "Let's go."

Leaving the house unnoticed was little trouble, but they raced out to Kaylie's car as fast as they could anyway. She felt a little like a spy on a top-secret mission, as they climbed into the car and Kaylie sped out of her driveway.

"Urg," Payson grumbled under her breath as Kaylie merged onto the highway. "I still can't believe we're in this situation. I mean Denver? The top girl at that gym didn't even qualify for Nationals last year and I _still_don't understand why he would take Lauren with him. Emily was his project, that I get, but Lauren?"

Kaylie rolled her eyes, putting on some lip-gloss as she drove. "I know. She was _tenth_ last year."

Payson nodded in agreement. "And the only reason she was that high was because of her beam routine. She ate mat on bars _twice_ and stepped out on three of her four tumbling passes on floor."

"Maybe Marty's got a thing about fixer-uppers," Kaylie joked a little meanly, but Payson laughed despite that.

Marty abandoning them hurt. Payson knew if she found out why he left she would be able to move on. He took Emily and he took Lauren and left them behind. Emily, who had natural ability, but would need a lot of polish and Lauren who dreamed up stories about Kaylie simply to be given a rank she did not earn.

"And Lauren, accusing you of seeing Carter? How low can you go?" Payson said, looking out the window, expecting another quick rejoinder from Kaylie, but was met with silence. "Kaylie?" she asked, turning towards the driver's seat.

Kaylie sighed heavily. "Promise you won't freak out?"

Payson's jaw dropped. "You're kidding right?" she asked. "You and Carter?"

"For almost a year now," Kaylie said, quietly and Payson's jaw dropped even further.

Suddenly it all made sense. Since Nationals last year Kaylie's dedication at the gym was shaky at best. She put her time in, but only what was required of her and she hasn't upgraded her difficulty either, something that would be necessary if she wanted to improve upon her eighth place finish at Nationals from last year.

"You and Carter?" Payson repeated, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm in love with him," Kaylie admitted softly, eyes trained on the road.

Payson stared at her in shock. They were sixteen years old, how could Kaylie possibly know she was in love? Who fell in love, _really __in __love,_ at sixteen anyway? No one.

She held back her instinctive reprimand however and simply said, "Wow."

"Look, I know you don't approve," Kaylie said.

"No, I don't," Payson cut off whatever 'but' Kaylie was about to add. "You could have gotten suspended. You _would_ have gotten suspended if Emily hadn't covered for you." Then something clicked in her head. "Lauren and Emily knew?" Despite herself, she was a little hurt. Kaylie and Lauren were friends since they were babies, but Kaylie knew Emily for two days and told her, not Payson?

Kaylie shook her head. "I have _no_ idea how Lauren figured it out. I didn't tell her. But Emily saw us, Carter and me, kissing in his truck the other day, that's how she knew."

"She saw you kissing in his truck?" Payson smacked her hand to her forehead. "How could you be that careless? What if it was Marty? Or any of the other girls who would have just _loved_ to see you get kicked out of the gym?"

"I know. I know it was stupid and we're being more careful, I swear. I just…I really love him, Pay and when Lauren told Marty…" she trailed off.

Payson suddenly realized just how low Lauren sunk. "What a bitch," she said, "ratting you out like that."

"Thanks," Kaylie said.

Payson snorted. "I still don't approve. Boys are just a huge distraction, especially keeping it a secret, but you never betray a friend, not like that." Kaylie lapsed into silence and Payson sighed heavily. "You really love him that much?"

Her eyes still trained on the road Kaylie nodded. "I do."

"Then if that's what you want, I'm happy for you, Kaylie," she said, still not understanding, but resigned to it. Kaylie was her friend and if something made her happy, even if that something was a slightly raggedy, lanky gymnast named Carter, then she was happy for her.

"Thanks, Pay," Kaylie said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it tightly. "That really means a lot."

"Just to be clear, this doesn't mean I'm going to cover for you guys or anything. No 'I'm sleeping over at Payson's house' just so you can go hook up or whatever."

Kaylie smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"I mean it, Kaylie," Payson said, but she was unable to keep the smile off her face.

"Sure, Payson, whatever you say."

* * *

><p>Sasha stepped out of his rental car and surveyed the neighborhood. Who knew Boulder, Colorado had a district that could rival the Hollywood Hills? Popping his sunglasses up on his head, he watched the gigantic tour bus pull down the street, parking just before the driveway.<p>

He shook his head at the gigantic photo of Kelly Parker pasted on the side of the bus. No matter how many times Sheila asked, he would not be stepping foot on that monstrosity.

The last thing he wanted was for the Rock parents to think he was a pawn of Sheila Baboyan's, out to promote her daughter at the expense of everyone else. He hated the politics of the sport, but he wasn't naïve about them.

"Are you sure they're expecting us?" he asked as she Sheila stepped off the bus and smirked at the large, manor like house that belonged to Alex Cruz.

"What? Don't you trust me, Sasha?" she asked, smirking.

He snorted. "About as far as I can throw you."

Sheila laughed and patted his bicep lightly. "You look pretty strong," she said. "Don't worry, you just stand there and look pretty, let me do the talking."

Sasha drew to a halt. "Stand there and…who do I look like David Beckham?"

Sheila stopped and studied him for a moment. "Yeah, you kinda do."

Laughing, Sasha stepped up to the door and knocked sharply.

The door opened quickly, a woman on the other side Sasha recalled almost instantly from his television screen twenty years before; she had that song, something about zippers. His brow knit trying to remember.

"Come in, come in, the meeting's about to start," she said, waving them in with a wide smile. Maybe Sheila hadn't lied, maybe they _were_ expected. He saw her eyes flicker over him with interest and appreciation and suddenly Sasha had an idea of how Marty wore out his welcome at the Rock.

"All right everyone," Alex Cruz's voice echoed into the main entryway from the living room. "We should get going."

"Yes, we really should," Sheila said. Sasha allowed her to precede him into the room, hanging back, watching the various reactions, some having no idea who she was, others narrowing eyes in instant recognition, then finally one woman, almost amused, shaking her head with a grim smile.

"Sheila," the woman said.

"Kim," Sheila said, nodding.

"This is a private meeting," Alex said, obviously trying to wrangle back control. "Who are you, exactly?"

Sasha rolled his eyes inwardly. It was as he originally thought; they were gate crashing this meeting. Perfect.

The woman Sheila greeted turned to the room. "Everyone, this is Sheila Baboyan, Kelly Parker's mother and manager," Kim said, emphasizing the word, _manager_. Coming from her mouth the word sounded like the worst of profanities. "But like Alex said, this is a private meeting."

"For Rock families," Sheila finished for her. "Of course, I understand, but it so happens my daughter is looking for a new gym and we've decided that the Rocky Mountain Gymnastics Training Center is the right place for her to pursue her Olympic dreams."

"Oh, has she?" Kim said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Indeed she has," Sheila said. Sasha couldn't see her, but he imagined that gigantic, sarcastic smile of hers was plastered across her face. "And so I drove right down here to sign her up and I even brought a gift."

Sasha cleared his throat. "I wouldn't exactly put it that way," he said, stepping forward. "But I did hear you were looking for a coach."

Silence reigned as every eye in the room fixed on his face, some obviously trying to work out where they knew him from, other's widening as they recognized him and then the room exploded, voices building and battling, rising over each other, expressing various levels of outrage. Sasha sat down in an armchair and watched the insanity.

"There is no way I'm allowing Sasha Belov to coach my daughters. The man is _insane!_I saw a documentary once about what he used to make those Romanian gymnasts do."…."We can't let Kelly Parker and her mother run roughshod over this gym. Did we all forget what Steve Tanner was like?"…"Oh, so Kelly Parker is going to take _my__daughter__'__s_ place in the top flight? That's ridiculous. We've been members of this gym for five years!"…"Who the hell are these people?" … "We've got every right to train at the Rock, especially since Kelly will only bring prestige to your roster."

He folded his hands together and leaned his elbows on his thighs. What was wrong with him? Why was he subjecting himself to this again? It would be worse than it was in Romania. This was a private gym, not state funded. He would be required to work with parents like Sheila Baboyan and these crazy people currently screaming at each other.

"Everyone sit down and shut up!" a voice rose over the rest. His head shot up and he saw the woman from before, Kim, standing the center of the room. The crowd slipped into a stunned silence. "Now look, we all want what's best for our kids. That's why we came here today, but this isn't productive. We need to talk about our options."

"That's right," Sheila jumped in, but Kim glared at her and she raised her hands in mock defeat.

"All of our options, especially," she stressed the word, "now that we have some. When Alex called this meeting our purpose, I think, was to figure out what to do next, but I don't think any one of us knew where to begin. Now we have a starting point, a qualified candidate who has expressed interest in the job," she gestured towards him. "I think we should hear what he has to say."

Sasha stood and nodded his thanks to her, as she ceded the floor, sitting on the couch and looking up at him expectantly. It was clear she wasn't convinced yet.

"Thank you, Mrs…." he trailed off.

"Keeler, Kim Keeler," she said as a man who he assumed was her husband took her hand.

Keeler. Interesting, he thought, filing that information away for later.

"The first thing you should all know about me, is that I'm my own man," he began. "While, Mrs. Baboyan informed me of your coaching vacancy, that is the extent of our affiliation. I've been out of this sport for nearly five years, but I never stopped following gymnastics. It's in my blood and coaching is what I am meant to do. You all are a part of one of the finest clubs in the country, but all of your girls have a long way to go and I believe I can help all of them become the best gymnast they are capable of being, if you let me."

His eyes surveyed the room. "I will tell you now, I do not have an open door policy in regards to coaching decisions, the only thing I will ever discuss with a parent is concerns about their daughter's health."

"What do you expect of the parents then?" someone in the crowd asked.

"Support of my decisions and support of your daughter's dreams, but the more pertinent questions is not what I expect of you all, but what I expect of the athletes, which is total dedication to the sport. There are several Olympic contenders training at your gym, several others who are serious NCAA candidates and one or two who could go either way. If I were your coach the gym would also be open to any gymnast who chooses to train there," he added, nodding towards Sheila, who smiled smugly. "And I can promise you, I will always be honest about an athlete's capabilities and I will push her to be the best she can be."

Sasha looked around the room and watched the parents nodding to each other, some murmuring, others looking contemplative. Then he looked up and saw a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen entering the room with a plate of crackers and some sort of dip. She looked up.

"Whoa," she said, eyes growing wide as saucers. "Sasha Belov."

He was shocked the kid knew who he was, but she wasn't intimidated in the slightest. She simply set her plate down on the sideboard against the wall and continued to talk.

"My sister has poster of you on her wall," which explained the recognition, "She's going to die when she finds out she missed meeting you. She and Kaylie went to the movies or something. Oh my God," she said, pulling her phone from her pocket. "Can you take a picture with me?"

"Becca," Kim Keeler reprimanded with just her daughter's name and a look.

The girl wrinkled her nose and bit her lip. "Sorry," she said, sitting down next to her mother with a small pout.

"Well, if that's all you had to say, Mr. Belov, I say we put it to a vote," Kim said, her arm going around her daughter in an instinctively comforting fashion.

Alex Cruz cleared his throat, frowning deeply, obviously still a little upset that his meeting was hijacked so thoroughly. "The Rock's charter states that the Parents' Board has the authority to hire a head coach."

Kim looked around the room. "Well all the board members are here. Go for it."

Alex nodded, clearly still unhappy. "All in favor of hiring Sasha Belov as the new head coach of the Rock, raise your hands."

Sasha looked around, watching several men and women raising their hands, some with authority, others tentatively, others not until someone else with their hand raised glared at them. He was disappointed to note that he didn't have Kim Keeler's vote.

"Unanimous," Alex declared, lifting his own hand. He stepped towards Sasha and offered his hand. "Welcome to the Rock."

Not long after the meeting drifted to a close and he made his way over to where the Keelers were standing, talking softly to each other, their daughter's eyes trained on her phone.

"Mr. and Mrs. Keeler?" he said and they stopped talking, "I'm sorry to interrupt…"

"Not at all," Kim said, smiling. "Welcome to the Rock. This is my husband, Mark."

The tall man offered his hand. "Nice to meet you both and Becca," he said nodding towards the girl. "I have to say, I was a little disappointed I didn't get your vote just now," he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"My vote?" Kim asked, shaking her head. "Oh, the board vote? Mark and I aren't on the parents' board."

"No? You seem to have a lot of sway with these parents and with Payson being the top girl at the gym, I just assumed…"

"We try to stay out of the politics," Mark said, shrugging, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders. She rolled her eyes affectionately in what seemed to be a private joke between them.

A thought niggled at the back of his mind that began to develop as soon as Kim told the room to sit down and shut up. Now it was fully formed and pushing to the forefront. "Listen, would you mind if we met later tonight? I haven't even checked into my hotel yet, but there's something I'd like to discuss with you both, if that's alright?"

Sasha saw suspicion flash across their countenances. "I know you barely know me, but if my instincts are correct there is something we need to talk about tonight."

He didn't see any form of communication between them, no eye contact or anything, but somehow the pair in front of him came to an agreement.

"Sure, why don't you follow us back to the house and we can talk," Mark said.

* * *

><p>"Bye, Kay," Payson said, climbing out of the car. She watched Kaylie drive down the street, before pushing her hands into the pockets of her Rock track jacket and trudging towards the house.<p>

The meeting in Denver could not have gone worse. Now she knew why Marty left, because he didn't think she had what it took, that she wasn't good enough. After everything they'd been through together, it stung, but she was going to let it drive her, all the way to the Olympic podium.

That is if she could find a coach to replace him.

She looked at the driveway and frowned at the unfamiliar car parked there. Had she forgotten someone was coming to visit? Payson hoped it wasn't her Aunt Debbie and Uncle Ron and their four bratty kids.

"Mom, Dad," she called. "I'm home."

She glanced up, looking down the entryway all the way through the house into the kitchen, seeing an unfamiliar blond man seated at the table with her parents. She strode towards them and as she approached, recognition lit in her mind. Stopping at the archway, she swallowed before she whispered, "Sasha Belov." he looked up and their eyes met across the room.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Becca bounced in front of her. "You missed_ everything_, all for a stupid movie. They were all arguing and Mom was awesome. And we're _so_ not moving to Houston."

Payson watched her mother stand up. "Thank you, Becca," Kim said, eyeing her meaningfully.

Becca sighed and left the room, mumbling something under her breath about never getting to have any fun.

Her ability to speak finally returned to her as Becca pushed past her into the hallway. "What…what's going on?" she asked.

"Coach Belov is going to start coaching at the Rock on Monday," her dad said from his seat. "Why don't you sit down, honey?"

Payson nodded, taking several quick steps into the kitchen, her eyes never leaving the man she idolized since she was a little girl. "It's…it's nice to meet you," she said, still wondering if her imagination was playing tricks on her. Maybe she lost her mind and her parents and sister were just humoring her.

"Nice to meet you too, Payson," he said, extending his hand. She stared at it for a moment, before placing her hand in his, letting his fingers close around hers, their palms resting together, his grip firm and strong.

"You're going to coach…at the Rock," she said softly, drawing her hand away from his slowly. "You're going to coach _me_."

"That's the idea," he said, a small smile appearing on his face.

Payson found herself smiling as well.

"Well, you folks have a lot to talk about, so I'll say goodnight."

Payson watched him stand up and shake her father's hand and then her mother's before offering her a small smile and leaving the kitchen. She followed him with her eyes as he moved down the hallway and out the front door, before she leapt to her feet and followed him.

"Wait!" she called out as she slammed through the front door and down the path.

He looked up, closing the door to his car and moving back around it. "I just…" she trailed off, before finding her footing again. "I just wanted to say I'm really looking forward to working with you." She tried to pour every ounce of respect she had for him and his abilities into her words.

Sasha smirked at her and she tilted her head in confusion. "You girls didn't really go to the movies tonight, did you?" he asked.

Payson's eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped before it morphed into a self-deprecating smile. "We went to Denver," she admitted, "to try and get Marty back."

He nodded as if his suspicions were confirmed. "And what did he say?"

Payson shrugged helplessly. "He said he's not coming back." She wasn't about to tell Sasha Belov that Marty Walsh thought she wasn't good enough. It didn't matter what Marty thought, not anymore.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Sasha said, "though I can't imagine they're very good ones." He paused before, smiling down at her. "I'm really looking forward to working with you too, Payson."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yay! Another chapter. I have to tell you, it's harder than I thought it would be, working so closely with the original source material. Obviously sometimes exactly what happened on the show happens in this story and other times it veers away from it quite dramatically, but I'm doing my best.

Next time it's back to the Rock with some surprises in store for everyone!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you did (or if you didn't) let me know, click that little review button and feed my addiction!

I adore each and every one of my readers, but if you review anonymously, it means I can't respond and I LOVE to respond to reviews. Sometimes you guys are so insightful and other times I just want to thank you for your support, so please please please register for an account and leave a signed review so I can pop you a message back!

Also, I mentioned a while ago that I was starting to write my own original work. Check out my author profile for a link to my new blog, where I'll be posting my new story, "Game, Set, Match" a tale of life, love and tennis!


	4. Chapter 4

Standing in the car park, Sasha surveyed the exterior of the Rocky Mountain Gymnastics Training Center carefully. The Rock itself was unimpressive from the outside. It was nestled in the center of a corporate park, nondescript buildings lined the streets, parking lots mostly empty on this early on a Monday morning. His eyes fell on the parking spaces lining the edges of the main walkway.

_Reserved for Tanner. Reserve for Cruz. Reserved for Keeler. Reserved for Walsh. _

He made a mental note to have two of those signs changed before eyeing the corner of the lot sheltered partially by some trees. Perfect. The airstream would be out of the way and yet his presence would be felt at all times.

Sasha briefly considered leasing a flat in the area or perhaps tapping into the ample reserves in his bank accounts and buying a house in Boulder, but the more he considered his options, the less appealing they seemed. If he had his way, the Rock would resemble the training facility he built his program in during his time at the Romanian head coach, complete with dormitories for the elite team members. Things were done very differently in the United States and judging by the nation's recent success, they were positive differences. Yet, he couldn't shake the need to be close to his gym.

Nicolai, his old coach lived in an apartment above the gym they trained in during Sasha's career and an Airstream would be the next best thing. It had the added bonus of likely freaking out the less dedicated gymnasts and tipping the scales either way for those considering whether they wanted to train with him.

Sasha smirked to himself; if he had to play up the more eccentric edges of his personality to get the results he wanted, so be it.

Taking out the key Alex Cruz placed in his hand two days before, he unlocked the gym doors, propping it open with a weight placed conveniently just inside the lobby. His eye caught on the dozens of trophies and photographs lining the walls of the main foyer. It bespoke of the reputation the gym was attempting to build, serious, dedicated and above all, victorious.

Stepping through the main doors, Sasha found what he expected. He knew Marty wouldn't work out of a second rate gym, but this facility was state of the art. Well-maintained equipment, plenty of room to work multiple athletes on each apparatus, it was exactly what had all the gymnastics experts in the world raving about the Rock. He glanced sideways and saw a stairwell leading to a small balcony.

Taking the stairs two at a time he found they led to an office. _His_ office. Much like the front hall, the office was dedicated to the Rock's many accomplishments in the short time the gym operated on the National scene. In the corner was a picture of the three Rock girls who made the National Team last year, Payson Keeler, the silver medalist, standing between Kaylie Cruz and Lauren Tanner, eighth and tenth respectively, but both outstanding on their strengths with a bronze for each, on floor for Kaylie and beam for Lauren.

Sasha would be lying if he didn't admit to disappointment at the news Lauren Tanner went to Denver along with Marty. He sensed she had the ability to become truly spectacular on beam and would have liked the opportunity to coach her, despite her reputation for being difficult.

In the end, it didn't matter. Starting today his team would be comprised of last year's gold and silver medalists and if his instincts were correct a young lady capable of much more than an eighth place finish.

He made himself comfortable at the desk which just days before belonged to his former friend and rival. Then he frowned, staring at the desk which abutted his, wondering if Kim Keeler gave any consideration to the offer he made just minutes before her daughter arrived home. He was encouraged that she asked for time to think it over rather than jumping at the chance to wield a powerful position at the gym. At the same time, simply for his peace of mind, he wished she agreed on the spot.

It was gut instinct, offering her the job of gym manager, but he had limited experience on the administrative side of gymnastics and could use all the help he could get, plus of all the people he encountered, if ever so briefly at the Cruz's home, she seemed like someone he wouldn't mind spending endless hours with cooped up in an office. Most importantly, however, it was obvious her main concern was the welfare of the girls, not the politics or living vicariously through her daughters' dreams. She was someone he could trust, he was sure of it. Now all he could do was hope she accepted.

Glancing up at the clock he saw it was nearing eight in the morning. The elite girls were scheduled to begin at eight, so he didn't have much time. Quickly, he reviewed the notes he took, unable to help himself as he sat uselessly in front of his television during the last five years.

Next to dozens of technical comments and possible routine upgrades he listed the major flaw for his three elite girls. It was these flaws he intended to focus upon in the lead up to the Olympic Games, just two years away. For Kaylie Cruz he wrote, _Passion? _ The talent and ability were there, but it was obvious there were stores she was not tapping into and he had to figure out why. Beside Kelly Parker's name he scribbled, _More_. She needed more everything, more difficulty on her events and a deeper connection to her gymnastics. And finally for Payson Keeler, a simple equation, _Power + Grace = GOLD. _ She had all the tools necessary to become one of the all time greats and it fell to him to show that to her.

A disconcerting thought occurred to him and unconsciously he rubbed his knee. Spinning in his chair towards the large filing cabinet against the wall he rifled through the organized chaos of Marty's organizational system. Finally, he found what he was looking for; a thick folder labeled, _Keeler, Payson – Medical._

A frown spread across his countenance and his jaw twitched as he read a detailed history of her injury woes dating back to a torn and repaired ACL as a junior, the same injury which ended his career to her current issues with a herniated disk in her back.

Sasha glanced up at the wall, finding a large annual calendar with a date circled in the middle of July. Nationals were just eight weeks away. He closed the file quickly and huffed out a breath. Realizing how much harder his job was about to become he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling wondering how to approach it.

His thoughts were interrupted almost immediately as voices began to echo up from the floor below as well as the sound of feet climbing the office stairs.

"Knock, knock," Kim Keeler said, standing in the open doorway, a slightly ironic lilt to her voice.

He sat up and smiled wanly. "Mrs. Keeler," he said, "come in."

"Kim, please," she said, stepping inside and hovering uncomfortably in front of the gym manager's desk for a moment. "Mark and I discussed your offer and while I'm still not sure I'm the right person for the job, I'll do it."

His smile grew more genuine at her words. "Fantastic," he said, heaving out a sigh of relief, before his thoughts from just a moment earlier settled down upon him again.

"So what do you need me to do, point me towards a project," she said, rolling up her sleeves and glancing around the office.

Sasha nodded to the desk adjoining his. "First of all, I need you to sit down while I run an idea by you."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she sat down. "I'm not going to like this am I?" she asked.

Sasha's eyes closed as he shook his head. "I don't know, but at the very least, I know Payson won't like it."

* * *

><p>It was unseasonably warm that morning and the sweaty tendrils plastering themselves to her forehead were evidence of that. Catching sight of the Rock as she rounded the corner, Payson allowed herself to shift into her remaining gear, increasing her pace to finish strongly. She saw her mother's car parked in their usual spot and inwardly shook her head. She couldn't believe Sasha Belov asked her mom to be manager of the Rock. As far as she knew her mom didn't know anything about managing a gym, let alone an elite facility like the Rock, but she wasn't about to question the judgment of the best coach in the world. If he wanted her mom around, that was just fine with her.<p>

Just as she rounded the bend into the parking lot, she heard a large engine roaring down the street. Pulling her headphones from her ears, she stood at the edge of the grassy ridge in front of the gym as she watched a large touring bus pull into the lot, taking up the vast majority of it and hiss to a halt.

Payson couldn't help the snort of amusement at the large image of her fiercest rival pasted on the side of the bus with Kelly Parker written in large flowing script next to it. Rolling her eyes she jogged the remaining few feet to the front door, but didn't make it inside before the squeak of the bus's door reached her ears followed by a saccharine sweet voice calling her name.

"Oh, Payson!" Kelly Parker said.

Catching the National Champion's reflection in the doors to the Rock, Payson schooled her expression from annoyance into stoicism before turning around to face her rival.

"Kelly," she said flatly.

"Isn't is amazing that I'm training here now?" Kelly asked, though she obviously needed no response and continued. "Instead of kicking your ass in competition, I'll get to kick your ass _every day._"

Payson just smirked in response and shook her head. "Welcome to the Rock, Kelly and good luck. You're going to need it." She allowed the tiniest hint of the same faux sweetness into her voice as she turned on her heel and went inside.

The gym was buzzing with clusters of young athletes and parents gathered together all whispering furiously. Payson shook her head and made towards the locker room to change into her leo, but was abruptly cut off when Kaylie flew out of nowhere and grabbed her arm, dragging her into an empty corner near the office balcony.

"Why didn't you answer any of my texts?" Kaylie demanded before shaking her head. "Do you believe this?"

Payson couldn't help the huge smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I know, isn't it great? We just went from having no coach to having the greatest coach in the world."

Kaylie rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm not talking about him. I mean can you believe Kelly Parker is going to train here?"

"Who cares, it's Sasha Belov," Payson said, confused as to why Kaylie had such a problem with it. Kaylie barely registered on Kelly Parker's radar and all their problems were solved.

"You're not nervous? I mean she did beat you last year."

Payson shrugged. "She beat me because I had to downgrade on every event except bars thanks to my stupid back. I've been training harder than ever and she's been going to movie premieres and club openings. As far as I'm concerned she can train wherever she wants."

Her mouth dropping open in disbelief, Kaylie shook her head. "You're kidding right?"

"No," Payson said. "I'm not scared of Kelly Parker. The only thing I'm concerned with right now is showing Sasha Belov what I can do."

"And you'll get your chance to do just that," a clipped British accent said from above them. Payson and Kaylie looked up to see their new coach standing on the raised platform.

She smiled sheepishly at him while he just shook his head and looked out onto the rest of the gym.

"Ladies and gentleman, if I could have your attention please. All parents into the viewing area, the floor will no longer be open during practice time."

A disgruntled murmur went up through the crowd, but Payson and Kaylie looked at each other impressed. The Rock parents were notorious for interfering with Marty during practice and it was nice to see that this new coach was nipping that problem in the bud right from the start.

"Now, if all Level 10 and Elite girls could gather 'round, the rest of you are dismissed for the remainder of the day. Our new gym manager Mrs. Keeler will be posting a new schedule by this afternoon which will begin tomorrow."

More than half of the athletes on the floor, most looking thrilled at being granted a day off, moved away leaving just the highest caliber female athletes currently training at the Rock.

"Now then," Sasha began to address the fifteen girls standing in a semi circle around the office platform. But before he could continue, the door opening and slamming shut drew everyone's attention.

Kelly Parker strutted in, her signature buns secure at the top of her head.

A murmur went through the crowd and Payson rolled her eyes.

"Miss Parker, you're late" Sasha barked, effectively cutting off the whispers of the small group of girls. "Practice begins promptly at eight on weekdays as I informed your mother yesterday. You'll do an extra round of conditioning."

Kelly's mouth dropped in affront, but quickly snapped closed at the expression on Sasha's face that dared her to object.

"Excellent," he said, nodding in satisfaction. "Now that we're all here, though I've met one or two of you before, I'd like to introduce myself and give you a sense of my expectations."

Payson focused her attention entirely upon him, studying every twitch of his jawline, every blink of his eye. This was the man who would take her to the Olympics.

"You are all very special," he began lowly. "You've chosen to do something few people are capable of. Look at each other," he instructed.

She hesitated, not wanting to look away and to miss something important.

"Go on, look," he said, urging them on.

Her eyes flickered to Kaylie quickly and then to her other side where Kelly was still pouting.

"No one but your peers can understand what it takes to become the best gymnast in the world. _No one_," he emphasized, pointing directly towards the parents' viewing area. "Which is why you need each other, but mostly, you need me."

Payson felt her stomach flip a little at his words. She knew she needed him, more than anything one else in her life, she needed a coach to achieve her dreams, but looking at him in that moment sent a small shiver down her spine. She inwardly shook herself, refocusing her mind on his voice.

"I read the Rock's Athlete's Contract and frankly I find it a waste of time. I have a few simple rules: work as hard as I do, care as much as I do, sacrifice as much as I do, you will live, breathe, eat, sleep, breathe, gymnastics and nothing else. We have only forty-nine days until Nationals and you will spend every waking moment of it, in this gym, together."

Payson felt Kaylie tense next to her, but she kept her eyes trained on him as they flickered over the small group. Finally his gaze met hers briefly before moving away. "Any one of you not willing to sacrifice your blood, sweat and tears to achieve excellence should leave."

He paused, letting his words settled upon them. No one moved a centimeter.

"We begin right now," he said. "You have the morning to refine your current routines and then I will be holding evaluations. Tomorrow morning, the real work begins. I understand there are three members of the current Women's Senior National Team training here. Kelly, Payson, Kaylie, I assume you all know the proscribed National Team warm-up?" he asked, eyeing each of them quickly.

"Yes," Payson said, when no response seemed forthcoming from the other girls. The National Team warm-up was an elite conditioning and stretching regime developed by Bela and Martha Karolyi at their NGO training facility in Houston. Payson begged Marty to implement it at the Rock when she first arrived, but he had his own program he wanted to use.

"Fantastic," he said. "You girls will lead your teammates through the warm up today. We will begin each practice with it every day. By the end of the week you should all have it committed to memory. Again, you have the morning to work on any problem areas and then after lunch, you'll show me what you can do," he finished with a nod in Payson's direction, echoing her words from just moments before.

"This is insane," Kaylie muttered as they all walked towards the floor to begin. "Eat, sleep and _bleed_ gymnastics."

"He's right. Nationals are just seven weeks away," Payson countered. "We don't have time for anything else or _anyone _else."

"You promised you wouldn't lecture me," Kaylie whispered.

Payson snorted. "No, I didn't."

Kaylie continued on as if she hadn't said a word. "Besides, our new coach thinks our athlete's contracts are a waste of time, which means, no more no-dating rule."

"I don't think that's what he meant," Payson muttered, rolling her eyes at Kaylie.

She shrugged. "That's how I'm choosing to interpret it."

"If you two are done chatting, could we get started? I have to do two of these," Kelly Parker broke into their conversation. The other girls were lined up and waiting for their instruction.

"Let's do this," Payson agreed.

* * *

><p>It was comforting to know that despite being out of the gymnastics world for five years, he still knew what he was looking at, even if he was limited to the television screen and some Youtube videos.<p>

All morning he watched the girls train, feverishly running through their routines, pushing themselves as close to perfection as possible. It was a godsend that the Rock had several very capable assistant coaches at hand to confer with and that they all had a decent rapport with the athletes. Several girls were obviously pulling out unpolished, but impressive, tricks to catch his eye, but through the assistants he instructed them to complete only competition ready skills and nothing else.

After lunch he ran through the dozen level ten gymnasts who currently trained at the Rock. They were all talented and one or two had the potential to move up to the elite level. He recognized nerves in most of their routines, but for the most part they were extremely well trained. Despite himself, he had to give Marty credit. He'd done a great job with his team.

As the final Level Ten dismounted the uneven bars, he scribbled a few final notes before turning around. "Elite girls, next," he said, nodding towards the three girls stretching silently in the center of the floor, waiting their turn.

"We'll start on floor," he said, nodding to Tara, the gym's resident choreographer to prepare the girls' music.

He watched each girl run through her routine and Sasha couldn't help the smile on his face. There was room for improvement, but at the same time he knew he was looking at the three best gymnasts on floor in the United States. Kaylie was a charming performer, Kelly's tumbling was flawless and Payson's new routine was phenomenal. His smile fell however as she finished her final tumbling pass landing a little short, shuffling her feet to cover the small stumble. That disk was flaring up, he could tell and his mind wandered back to the file sitting on his desk upstairs.

As they moved to the vault, his concern grew and he knew his earlier instincts were the right ones. Vault was the weakest event for both Kelly and Kaylie, but it was easily the strongest for Payson. The two other girls performed beautiful Yurchenko style vaults with one and a half twists. They would receive high execution scores, but their start values were too low to make a real impact on the international scene. He intended to upgrade both of them to a double twist, possibly before Nationals if they could land it consistently in training.

Payson's vault, however, was another story entirely. Marty had her competing a handspring onto the vault with a double twisting forward somersault off. A risky vault, which had never been landed in international competition by a woman, it had a blind landing and the twisting action made it extraordinarily dangerous, especially for a gymnast with a bad back and a history of knee issues. If his old friend were in the gym right now he'd strangle him for encouraging her to attempt the vault, let alone compete it. She landed it beautifully, her spatial awareness placing her perfectly in the center of the landing lane, knees bending to soften the impact just slightly. Thought the era of the perfect ten was long over, he was at a loss to see where the judges would deduct from it.

He moved the group over to bars and walked next to Payson as the other girls chalked up.

"How's your back?" he asked, matching her stride.

"Fine," she said, glancing up at him sideways. "Why?"

"Just checking, nice vault," he said, nodding towards the chalk bowl, indicating she should prepare for bars.

Bars were impressive, especially for Kelly and Payson. Kaylie's routine needed upgrading, particularly the dismount, a double pike just wouldn't cut it, but all three were clean workers, toes pointed, and legs straight and pasted together. His eyes narrowed a bit when he saw Kelly's elbows bend slightly during a full pirouette on the high bar, but beyond that Sasha was impressed.

The final event of the day, beam, wasn't even close. The routine Kaylie performed was obviously the reason her National Team ranking was so low. She lacked the confidence and self definition required on the most challenging of all the gymnastics apparatuses. Beam required a level of focus she did not seem capable of, at least not yet.

Despite the obvious flaws however, she seemed satisfied with the performance and high fived Payson her way to the mat. Sasha frowned down at his notes and then nodded for Payson to begin.

Her routine was jammed full of difficulty. He'd never seen anything like it from any gymnast. Sasha quickly calculated the D-score as she combined element after element before dismounting with an arabian double front and standing tall, saluting the non-existent judges.

"Wow," he heard a small voice next to him whisper. He turned and saw Kelly Parker staring at Payson intently.

"Okay," he said, making a show of distraction. "Show me what you've got, champ."

Kelly stepped to the beam and performed the same routine she competed at Nationals the year before, the same routine that clinched the title for her. It was good, world class even, but as she dismounted with her double pike and saluted, it was clear, despite the lack of judges and scores, who won the day.

Sasha nodded to the girls. "Very good, ladies. Stretch out and cool down. I'll see each of you separately before we wrap up for the day.

* * *

><p>She could barely feel the ground beneath her feet. She didn't need scores or judges to tell her what her eyes could plainly see. Two months out from Nationals she just wiped the floor with her closest competition. Payson's eyes shifted towards the parents' viewing area and then she shook her head, realizing her mother was up in the gym office, getting herself organized.<p>

"You were awesome, today, Pay," Kaylie said as Kelly followed Sasha up stairs to have their conference.

"So were you," Payson told Kaylie. "Tomorrow why don't you stay late with me?" she suggested. "I bet we could turn that two and a half punch front tuck into a two and a half punch front layout."

"I can't," she said, as her eyes drifted over to the viewing area and then around them, obviously to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. "I have a date with Carter," she whispered. "It's our ten month anniversary and he wanted to do something special."

Payson tried to look excited. "Wow, ten months, that's a long time," she said with a nod.

If Kaylie noticed her lack of enthusiasm she didn't say anything. "I know. He said he has a present for me and I can't wait to see what it is."

Payson had a weakness for stupid comedies and as a result, her mind drifted to the gutter. She laughed a little and Kaylie looked at her quizzically. She just raised her eyebrows twice suggestively and Kaylie's jaw dropped.

"Not like that, Payson," she insisted, though she blushed a bit.

"Right," she said, finishing up her core stretches and standing.

Kaylie opened her mouth to retort, but Sasha's voice echoed down from the platform. "Kaylie, you're next."

Payson watched her friend jog toward the office, passing Kelly Parker on her way down.

"Nice job today, Keeler," Kelly said, joining her in her cool down stretches.

"You too," Payson offered. Kelly knew she was the winner today, but Payson didn't feel the need to rub it in. She'd save that for when she officially beat her at Nationals.

"That vault is insane," Kelly added and Payson narrowed her eyes trying to guess the other girl's game. Her tone wasn't the least bit sincere. "Why didn't you compete it last year at Nationals?"

Payson shrugged. "It wasn't competition ready yet?"

"Right." Kelly nodded. "It didn't have anything to do with your back did it?" she asked. "I mean a vault like that, you could injure yourself pretty seriously."

She rolled her eyes. "My back is fine and if you failed to notice, my insane vault has a 1.4 DOD advantage over yours. Once I land it at Nationals and then again at Worlds this year, it'll be named after me." She stooped straight down to the reigning champion's level, unable to stop herself.

"We'll see," Kelly said with a shrug before standing and moving off to the locker room.

"Payson," Sasha called for her from the office.

She passed Kaylie on the way who looked a little shaken.

"Good luck," Kaylie muttered under her breath. She was clearly unhappy with how the meeting went.

"Thanks," she said, quickly jogging up the stairs.

Sasha looked up from his desk and nodded to the chair opposite him.

"Where's my mom?" she asked, taking a seat. She smiled, seeing that her mother already lined her desk with several family photographs.

Sasha waved his hand vaguely in the air. "She ran home to check up on Becca. Something about making sure she hadn't burned the house down."

Payson laughed lightly. "Becca tends to get into trouble without ever meaning to," she explained.

He hummed his agreement and smiled at her, before placing his clipboard on the desk and sighing heavily. "You were phenomenal out there today, Payson."

"Thank you," she said, her smiling growing, before biting her lip self consciously. "I've worked really hard."

Sasha nodded. "It shows. If Nationals were today, barring any silly mistakes, you would be the clear favorite to win it all…."

She noticed his voice trailed off and her stomach sank in trepidation. "But…" she supplied for him.

His mouth pressed into a firm line as he reached out and picked up a file, handing it over to her. "I read your medical history this morning and I discussed it with your mother as well."

Payson's jaw dropped in outrage. Suddenly, Kelly Parker's questions about her back made sense. She obviously saw the medical file sitting on Sasha's desk and made the obvious leap.

"I'd appreciate it if I was included in any discussions like that," she bit out, her eyes narrowing at him.

Sasha's eyebrows shot up at her tone, which she immediately regretted.

"Sorry," she mumbled, looking away.

"No, you're right. You probably should have been there," he admitted. "What's done is done though and your mother and I agreed. She also spoke to your father and he's on board as well."

Payson shook her head, the sinking in her stomach suddenly shifting into a heavy knot, twisting and churning painfully. "On board with what?"

"Tomorrow morning you're scheduled for surgery to repair your herniated disk."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Did you see it coming?

One thing that STILL bothers me about Payson's injury was that a herniated disk is an easily fixed condition. It's an OUTPATIENT procedure with a recovery time of less than three weeks. I know elective surgery is a tough decision, but really this is an easy one. If Sasha was the coach MIOBI purports him to be, he would have been on top of Payson's injury situation immediately and done something about it.

Let me know what you think! After you review, head to my profile and check out my original novel's blog: _Game. Set. Match_. There's some new stuff posted for your reading enjoyment there! And if you love Sasha Belov, I guarantee you'll love the male lead in _Game. Set. Match._


	5. Chapter 5

For the first time in a very long time, years even, Payson woke up totally pain free. Two and a half weeks post-surgery, earlier than her surgeon predicted and nothing, not one ache, no soreness, just perfect flexibility and no pain.

She knew it was a little screwed up, being upset that she was pain free, but the only thing her comfort meant was that her back was fixed by a surgery which would keep her out of serious training for nearly five weeks leading up to Nationals. There

wouldn't be enough time between her clearance from the doctors and the start of competition to train and her dreams of the 2010 National Championship were over and any chance she had at attending the World Championships in the Fall.

It was all Sasha Belov's fault. She didn't know how he did it, but somehow he completely won over her parents in a matter of hours. As far as they were concerned, the man walked on water. All they could talk about was his concern for her health and how refreshing it was for a coach to put her well-being before her medal count.

Well, screw that. He said so himself. She was poised to dominate at Nationals and win at Worlds. She begged and pleaded to put the surgery off until after the World Championships, but neither her parents nor Sasha budged. It had to be now. He found a surgeon who spoke in medical gibberish, talking about inflammation of her disk and the potential for major injury. Something about a lumbosacral fracture, which sounded like total bullshit to her ears, but totally convinced her parents that surgery wasn't just necessary eventually, but immediately.

Her back felt fantastic and it was worse than any pain she ever endured.

Sighing heavily and rifling through her drawers for a pair of shorts and a tank top, she stared, longingly at the pile of leotards stacked neatly on the other side of the drawer. She slammed it shut and pulled off her pajamas, replacing them with the workout clothes, wishing all the while it was a training leo instead.

Payson couldn't figure out Belov's angle. It was possible Kelly Parker's mother had him in her pocket. That didn't make sense though, since he hired her own mother as gym manager. Unless that was just to lull her parents into a false sense of security. Yet, her instincts told her that she was way off base.

The Sasha Belov she knew, at least from the books she read and the footage she watched would never be anyone's pawn. That is, unless, his entire image was a total sham. That was a horrible thought.

Her stomach twisted at the idea of the man she looked up to her whole life not living up to her expectations of him. She didn't expect him to be perfect. She just didn't expect _this._

"Let's go, Pay," her mother called from the main hall, jingling her keys meaningfully.

That was the other thing. He insisted she go to the Rock every day and torture herself by watching everyone else train, while she was relegated to the sidelines. The only thing she was allowed to do was get her heart rate up on the elliptical machine and lift very light hand weights. No high impact exercise and certainly no apparatus training.

"Payson," she said again, her voice sharper this time.

"Be right there, Mom."

* * *

><p>She took out her anger on the elliptical machine. By the time she came out of the annex, drenched in sweat, hair from her ponytails sticking to her neck, the gym was in full swing. Gone was the total chaos that reined while they were without a coach. If anything, things were running more smoothly than when Marty was in charge. Her mother's new schedule avoided the overcrowding they sometimes encountered in the past, especially during the Level 10 and Elite training hours and without the parents on the floor, the gym seemed much less claustrophobic, if a room the size of an airplane hanger could ever be so.<p>

Coming in through the back door by the annex, she saw Kelly Parker racing towards the vault at full speed, a double twisting Yurchenko.

"What do you think, Payson?" Her voice set Payson's teeth on edge. "I've upgraded since Worlds."

"You had a form break in your legs off the horse, at least a tenth of a point," Payson shot back. "You shouldn't just chuck skills for the sake of upping your DOD, Kelly."

"I agree," a voice interrupted from behind her, a deep and distinctly British voice. "Kelly, you'll do the one and a half until we can focus on the upgrade in the pit. No chucking skills in my gym."

Payson's shoulder's stiffened. She trained her eyes ahead of her and walked away, though really she had nowhere to go.

"Payson." A moment later he was standing in front of her, blocking her path. "I'd like to talk to you up in the office."

Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, refusing to meet his eye. "I'm busy."

One of the Level 10 girls training nearby gasped at her blatant show of disrespect. She never spoke to a coach that way before, other than when she yelled at Marty on the floor at Denver Elite. She didn't think that counted, though.

"My office, now," he said, turning away from her, not giving her the chance to retort.

She had two choices. She could defy him, stay out on the floor with nothing to do and watch pathetically as everyone else trained or she could see what he wanted. Maybe he wanted her to have a lobotomy this time. That would keep her out of competition forever.

Glancing over at the beam where Kaylie was training the new double flic-flac to layout Sasha added to her routine, she sighed in resignation.

Lobotomy. At least then she wouldn't know about the upgrades everyone else was adding to their routines.

Trudging up the stairs to the office, she was grateful to see her mother wasn't there. Her mom wouldn't hear the lecture she was about to get about being snarky with her teammates and insubordinate to her coach, which meant there would be no repeat of that lecture all evening at home.

Sasha was standing at the filing cabinet behind his desk, digging through it like a madman, folders were askew and several found their way to the floor, causalities of his search.

"Look, I'm sorry,"

"Found it." He brandished a folder high in the air. Turning towards her, he nodded towards the chair opposite his desk. "Have a seat."

She tried again. "I'm sorry,"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "For snapping at me? Don't be. I fully expect it to happen again, likely with language much worse than that if we're going to work together for the next three years."

Payson opened her mouth to respond, but no sound with forthcoming. She had no idea what to say to that. He expected her to bitch at him?

"Have a seat," he repeated and this time she followed his direction.

"So if I'm not here to get yelled at, why am I here?"

"How's your back?" He did that a lot, totally disregarding what a person said to him and carrying on whatever conversation he wanted instead.

Payson narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath to contain her annoyance. "My back is perfect."

"No pain, soreness, anything?"

"It's great," she said from between clenched teeth.

He rubbed his hands together vigorously and smiled at her. "Excellent, then we can get started."

She was almost afraid to ask. "Get started on what?"

His smile widened. "On your training plan."

"But I can't train," she said. "The doctor said nothing high impact for at least another two weeks."

"The beginning of your training plan is not high impact." He offered her a piece of paper from the file on his desk.

Payson eyed him carefully before taking the paper from him. "Miss Viola's Ballet Academy. You're kidding, right?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

He didn't. His jaw was set, mouth drawn in a firm line, eyes burning into hers, he was dead serious.

"Well, either you're kidding or you're completely crazy," she said. "I don't do ballet."

"You do now," he said, standing from his chair. "Your first lesson is Monday morning. Yoga starts on Tuesday."

Payson's mouth opened, but she was unable to formulate a response.

Sasha smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way. He nodded, taking her silence as tacit acceptance of his training plan. "Glad we could have this talk," he said, standing up and leaving the office.

She watched him disappear out the door then followed his sandy blonde hair as he moved by the office window down and out to the floor.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, stunned, staring at the paper in her hand.

It was worse than a lobotomy.

"Ballet," she whispered, "and yoga."

She was so screwed.

* * *

><p>"And now he wants me to go to ballet class," Payson complained as she frowned into her strawberry-mango juicer.<p>

After training, though Payson hesitated to call it that since all she did all day was ride the elliptical machine and watch everyone else train, Kaylie suggested a Spruce Juice fix. They both needed to vent and it was best done at their favorite hangout.

Kaylie grimaced. "Didn't you do ballet when you were little?"

"I was four," Payson said, huffing. "And yoga? Who does he think I am?"

Kaylie shrugged helplessly. "Maybe he got us mixed up, because all he keeps talking about adding these insane moves to my routines. He wants to replace the double back in my floor routine with a double arabian."

Payson grinned, trying to be supportive, but she couldn't quite muster up sympathy for Kaylie. Sasha was upgrading Kaylie's routines, helping her get better. She would kill to trade places with her.

"Hey, isn't that Lauren?" Kaylie asked, eyes narrowing at a group of girls walking into the patio area wearing the navy blue and red warm-up jackets of Denver Elite.

"Yeah, that's here," Payson said, squinting to get a closer look, "and Emily too."

"And half a dozen of her new Denver Elite minions," Kaylie practically snarled. "Who does she think she is, this is our place."

"Well, she used to be part of _our_," Payson said, motioning between them.

"Happy birthday, Lauren," one of the Denver girls called, as she and another girl passed around smoothies.

Kaylie crinkled her nose. "That's right, it's Lauren's birthday."

Payson felt her stomach clench uncomfortably. "I kind of feel bad. I mean we always used to celebrate our birthdays together."

"Are you girls ready for an awesome night?" Lauren's voice echoed from the other side of the patio. "First my Dad is going to treat us all to dinner at Le Privilège and then we are going to par-tay, at Blast Off."

"What's Blast Off?" Kaylie asked and Payson shrugged.

"It's a party," a voice said from behind Payson's back.

Payson rolled her eyes. Of course Kelly Parker knew about a party. It infuriated her even further. While the bun headed bitch spent her time going to parties and night club openings Payson was training. It was all for nothing. Kelly Parker would repeat as National Champion and there was nothing she could do about it.

"What are you doing here?" Payson said, her annoyance clear.

"I'm getting a smoothie," Kelly said, rolling her eyes. "Duh."

"What kind of party?" Kaylie asked, her eyes still fixed at the table where Lauren and her new friends were sitting.

"A key party," Kelly said, pulling a flier from her bag. "I just ran into a guy outside. He was handing them out."

"We should go," Kaylie said, grabbing the piece of paper from Kelly's hand and studying it intently.

Payson rolled her eyes. "We are not going to a keg party."

"Why not? We both need to blow off some steam and this is the perfect way to do it."

"This is not the perfect way to do anything. What if we got caught?"

"By who?"

Payson raised her eyes to the sky and shook her head. "Our coach," she said. "Sasha would kill us if we went to a keg party."

Kelly scoffed, inviting herself to their table and sitting down. "Like he'd care either way if you went, Keeler. You can't train."

"She does have a point," Kaylie said and Payson gaped at her in outrage. "Besides who would tell him?"

"Her," Payson said, nodding towards Kelly.

Kelly tilted her head in acknowledgement of the truth in her statement. "But if I went with you…" she trailed off.

"You want to go to a party, with us?" Kaylie asked, in disbelief.

"Well we're teamies now, aren't we?"

Payson snorted and stood up. "You two have a good time then. Get drunk. It's not like you're trying to make the Olympic team or anything."

As she walked out, she shot Lauren and her cronies the nastiest look she could manage. Slipping through the gate of the Spruce Juice's patio, she immediately felt bad for stomping out like she did, for taking her anger out on Kaylie, who didn't deserve it, but she wasn't going back and she definitely wasn't going to a keg party.

"Hey there," a male voice called as she walked down the street towards her house. "You are cordially invited, biggest kegger of the year, music and all the beer you can drink." He shoved a flier into her hands and winked at her.

Rolling her eyes, she kept walking. Then about half way home she broke into a run, crumpling the flier in her fist.

* * *

><p>Her cellphone buzzed on her nightstand and her hand shot out from beneath her covers before it could vibrate off the edge and onto the floor.<p>

Pulling the phone under the covers with her, she squinted at the screen. It was Kaylie calling. Her sleep fogged mind tried to understand what that meant. Kaylie was at Blast Off and it was late at night. That could only mean one thing. She was in trouble.

Suddenly wide-awake, Payson accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Keeler?"

It wasn't Kaylie. It was Kelly Parker. Why was she calling from Kaylie's phone?

"Yeah, Kelly, what's up?" she asked, sitting up in bed, already looking around for some clothes. Somehow she knew what was coming next.

"Cruz got herself totally wasted and I had a couple of drinks and now we're stranded here. You were the only one I knew in her contacts. I don't think she would want me to call her parents."

"No," Payson said, "don't call her parents. I'm on my way. Where are you guys?"

Five minutes later, she was out the door as quietly as possible and driving towards the address Kelly gave her.

It was some old fairgrounds just outside the city limits, near the trails she ran every morning. She spotted Kaylie, leaning against her car and Kelly arms crossed impatiently.

Payson got out of her mom's station wagon and sighed. "How many did she have?"

The reigning National Champion rolled her eyes and shrugged dramatically. "I don't know. I lost in the crowd for a little while. The party was lame and when I found her she was sitting on an empty keg crying her eyes out over some guy."

Payson pulled out her cellphone.

"Who are you calling?"

"Her brother, Leo. We have to get her into her house without her parents seeing her like this and I think he's home for the summer."

Fifteen minutes later, Payson pulled to a stop in front of the Cruz mansion.

Kaylie moaned from the back seat and sat up. "Uh, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Do not throw up in my mom's car. I will kill you and then bring you back to life and kill you again," she snapped.

Kelly huffed from the passenger seat. "I don't see why you couldn't have dropped me off first."

"Shut up, Parker," Kaylie mumbled from the backseat.

Payson smiled, getting out of the car and moving around to the back seat to help Kaylie out.

The main gate opened up and Leo Cruz sauntered towards them shaking his head. "Oh, she is going to be in so much pain tomorrow," he muttered, as Kaylie slid from the car, holding on to Payson for dear life. "Thanks for bringing her home, Payson."

"No problem. Just make sure she drinks lots of water, okay? Kelly said she had at least three beers."

"Kelly?" Leo said and suddenly KP was out of the front seat, standing with them.

"That's me. Kelly Parker," she said, smiling at him.

"Leo Cruz," he said, his eyes flickering up and down Kelly's form, taking in her mini-dress and high heels.

Payson cleared her throat. "Hate to interrupt you two crazy kids, but…" she trailed off meaningful.

"Right, sorry," Leo said, stepping forward and taking Kaylie from her, wrapping her friend's arm around his neck, holding her upright.

"Night, Pay-Pay. Night KP," Kaylie called, suddenly lucid again. Her voice echoing up the darkened driveway.

"I better get her inside. Thanks again, Payson," Leo said. "Nice meeting you, Kelly."

"You too," Kelly said, smiling again as she climbed into the car.

Payson started the engine and pulled away from the Cruz house.

"You totally did the right thing taking Kaylie home first," KP said, smoothing her dress against her thighs and looking out the window back towards the house.

Rolling her eyes, Payson kept driving. She dropped Kelly off at her tour bus, which was parked in a lot adjacent to the Rock. The bus gave her a creepy feeling, probably because Sheila Baboyan was behind one of the tinted windows glaring at her and possibly pushing sharp pins into a tiny Payson Keeler voodoo doll.

Then again, since she wasn't competing at Nationals, Sheila probably didn't care about her at all anymore. She wasn't a threat to Kelly. She wasn't a threat to anyone.

"Thanks for coming to get me," Kelly said, getting out of the car. "I mean us."

Payson sighed. "Well, we are teamies now, right?" she said, throwing Kelly's words from earlier that day back at her.

Kelly laughed. An actual genuine laugh, not that stupid giggly crap she used with reporters and NGO officials. "Night Keeler. See you on Monday."

"Night KP," Payson said.

She drove home quickly, her house just a few miles away from the Rock and slipped back inside. The rooms were still dark, bedroom doors firmly shut. No one had missed her.

Climbing back into bed, she crumpled up the note she left on her pillow in case her mom woke up and found her gone at two o'clock in the morning.

The next thing she knew, her phone was buzzing again. Blinking awake, she grabbed it from her nightstand and saw an unfamiliar number. It was six thirty on a Sunday morning, who was calling her now?

"Hello?" she rasped into the phone.

"Payson, be at the Rock in an half an hour, ready for practice," Sasha Belov said, his baritone unmistakable even to Payson's sleepy ears.

The line went dead and she was left staring at her phone, wondering if she imagined it. It was Sunday. Why was he calling practice on Sunday?

She felt her stomach lurch and she pinched at the bridge of her nose in frustration. He knew about the party.

"Shit."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I forgot how much I simultaneously enjoy and dread writing this story. I love it because I get to do what I want with canon and I dread it because it's SO HARD to stay within the confines of the "what-if" universe I've created.

Hope you enjoyed this. It was very much a transition chapter. I broke format a little bit, sticking with Payson's POV throughout the whole chapter. The next will be solely from Sasha's POV. He gets to be Sasha the Terrible in the next chapter, though I can promise you a little UST from our favorite couple is imminent! ;-)

Let me know what you thought!

Also, there is a ton of new content over at my original work's blog, including a new prequel piece all about the main male protagonist, Alex Russell. Is it wrong to be totally infatuated with your own character? Because every time I write about him, I fall a little more in love. You can find the link on my profile or just go to:

Gamesetmatchanovel dot blogspot dot com

Thanks everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

He watched from his office window and waited.

Payson arrived first, glancing up at the office, before stomping over towards the beam and dropping her bag down on the mat. She narrowed her eyes at him through the window and then placed her hands on the beam with a beautiful combination of reverence and defiance.

Then Kaylie came in dragging her heels, eyes glued to her cellphone. As usual, her focus on something other than her training.

"Would you put that away," he heard Payson snap.

Kaylie groaned. "Lower your voice."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I talking too loud for the poor hung-over gymnast?"

"Payson," Kaylie hissed. "Shut up. He'll hear you."

Sasha could feel her eyes on him through the window, hoping he hadn't heard. He kept his focus on the desk in front of him, shuffling through random pieces of paper. Then he checked the time. Two minutes 'til eight and Kelly Parker, the girl with the shortest commute – exactly ten steps from the bus to the Rock's front door – was late again.

He heard the door creak open and then slam. Not late then, right on time.

"Is it just us?" Kelly's voice rang out.

"Do you see anyone else?" Kaylie said.

"We are so in for it. I could strangle you two. I didn't even go to that stupid party."

"How would he have found out? No way, it's impossible."

Sasha stood and grabbed the paper bag from the floor. It was time for the girls to understand that playtime was over. He was here to coach Olympians and not spoiled, whiny, _average_ teenagers.

He jogged down the steps onto the floor, watching their faces morph from confusion to trepidation. Reaching into the bag he grabbed a can and tossed it in Payson's direction.

She caught it. Her brow furrowed, studying it and then looking back up at him in confusion. He handed one to Kelly and another to Kaylie before taking one for himself.

Tapping the mouth to keep the liquid from exploding in his face, he cracked it open and raised the can in their direction. "Cheers," he said, before taking a long, exaggerated draught.

Across from him Payson scoffed and rolled her eyes, but Kaylie and Kelly stood stock-still and totally silent.

Sasha opened his mouth, ready to lay into them when a soft crack cut him off. His eyes flew to Payson, who was taking a large sip from her beer, likely her first taste of alcohol if the look on her face was any indication. She swallowed roughly and wrinkled her nose.

Despite himself, Sasha nearly laughed. She was…there were no words. He schooled his expression into displeasure, the speech he planned about dedication and how they were all on probation flying from his head.

"My office now," he said, reaching out and taking the can from her.

Payson shrugged, grabbed her bag and pushed past him, marching up the stairs and out of sight.

Kaylie and Kelly were still standing in front of him, holding cans of cheap, warm beer, staring at him.

"You two are on probation. I didn't come here to coach girls who go out to parties and get drunk." He took the cans from them and then nodded towards the ropes hanging at the far end of the gym. "Thirty climbs in fifteen minutes."

Kaylie groaned.

"If you feel the need to get sick, try not to do it on the mats, Miss Cruz."

He watched them scamper off towards the ropes, swinging their arms and stretching their triceps and biceps in preparation for the climbing. Then he moved back towards his office and the gymnast who confounded him at every turn.

Sliding the door shut behind him, he held her can of beer back towards her. "You want the rest?"

She snorted. "No thanks. Tastes like crap."

"Well, I wasn't going to buy the good stuff just to prove a point to you girls."

Payson quirked an eyebrow at him. "And what point was that, exactly? Beer bad, practice good?"

Cheeky brat. "Something like that."

"Whatever."

"So why didn't you go to the party last night?"

"How do you know I didn't? Maybe keggers are my thing."

It was Sasha's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Really? So when you go to these keggers you're so fond of, do you regularly wear Snoopy pajama pants?"

"What?"

"Because that's what you were wearing when you dropped Kelly off at her bus last night. Snoopy pajama pants and a Rock hoodie. That outfit doesn't exactly scream, kegger."

"How did you know Kelly and Kaylie went?"

"Not important," he said, waving off her question. Really, it was an educated guess. Kaylie's attitude towards training and Kelly's clear desperation to be a part of a team were reasons enough for them to scamper off to a part together. He hadn't been sure if Payson would go with them, until he saw her through the window of his trailer, climbing out of the car in her sleepwear.

"So if Kaylie and Kelly are here to be punished," she asked, nodding towards the two girls struggling up the ropes, "why am I here? Haven't you punished me enough?"

"You think I'm punishing you?"

"What else am I supposed to think? You took away my chance to be National Champion."

"That's what you think? That I'm trying to…" he trailed off trying to find the right word, "hurt you in some way?"

Payson crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged.

Sasha ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He knew she was pissed off at him, he hadn't realized that she felt like this, however. That wasn't part of his plan. He needed her to trust him.

"Payson," he said, drawing her attention, holding her eyes with his. "You are a better gymnast than your body will allow you to be."

"What does that even mean? Why do you always talk in riddles?"

"What I mean is, your abilities, while extraordinary, would have eventually done more harm than good. How old are you, Payson?"

"Seventeen, in two weeks."

"And how old will you be in London?"

"Nineteen, but I don't see what that has to do with…."

"If you kept going at the rate you were going at, you wouldn't be there, in London. Do you understand that? Your body was betraying you."

"I was managing my pain. Marty said…"

"Marty Walsh never dealt with potentially catastrophic injuries, not his own injuries anyway. He won his gold medals and got out of the sport. He doesn't understand what you and I do…"

"And what's that?"

"Competing in pain so bad that it would have most people writhing in agony. I watched you last year at Nationals, Payson. It hurt to walk didn't it? To stretch your arms over your head? To bend down and touch your toes?"

Payson looked away, biting her lip. She swallowed, but nodded.

"I'm asking you to trust me. I understand what you were going through and I will help you get to the Olympics. I promise, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yeah, you can tell me to bugger off if you like. There are a lot of gyms out there. Marty is just a short commute away."

She sat in silence, biting her lower lip, before she looked up at him through her lashes. "I don't want to leave the Rock."

What she didn't say was crystal clear. Her staying had nothing to do with him. She wasn't ready to trust him. He'd just have to convince her.

"Payson, I'm not sure…I don't think even you understand how much potential you have."

"Had," she cut him off. "Potential I _had_. Now my back feels great, but I can't train and…"

"You can't train for two more weeks, Payson, not forever. And those ballet lessons and yoga classes, they'll keep you in shape until then."

"I still don't understand. Why did I have to have the surgery now? I was going to…I was finally going to win."

"And if you were in so much pain after Nationals that you had to withdraw from Worlds again? What would be the point of being National Champion if you couldn't be World Champion? We had to get your healthy. Your knee is what it is, and we'll be careful with it, but your back, we had to repair it before you did any permanent damage. As soon as the doctor's give you the go-ahead we'll be able to get started."

Any other gymnast would have assumed he meant simply resuming training, but Payson narrowed her eyes. "Get started with what?"

"We're going to totally reinvent you from the ground up."

"What?" she asked, sitting up from her slouch in the chair. "Why? My d-scores are…"

"Your d-scores aren't the problem, your e-scores…"

"Are always in the 9s, even on floor. I scored a 62 in my last meet."

Sasha dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "A 62 with American judges. Tell me, Payson, what's the biggest complaint about American gymnasts internationally?"

"All power, no artistry."

"Right and now I'll ask you, what kind of champion do you want to be? The girl who threw some big tricks and pounded the competition into the ground? Or do you want to be a gymnast who steals the breath from the audience _while _pounding her competition in the ground?"

"I can do both?"

"Yes, you can."

"How?"

"By trusting me."

"Trusting you to do what?"

"Stand up," he said, standing as well. "Now, use the desk as a barre and turn out, first position."

Payson rested her hand against the edge of his desk and pushed her heels together. Sloppy, but the natural turn out was obvious. Stepping behind her, his hand fell to her hip, holding her steady as he pushed at her heels with the toe of his boot, forcing her turnout a little further.

"Feel that?"

He felt a shudder run through her body, her hip pressing into his hand as she shoulders straightened further. "Yes."

"There are ballerinas in the Royal Ballet who would kill for this natural turn out. You, Payson Keeler are capable of being so much more than just a gymnast and we're going to stun every single gymnastics critic in the world."

"But," she said, stepping away, turning towards him. "All I've ever wanted to be is just a gymnast."

Sasha shook his head. "No, you haven't. You've wanted to be the _best_ gymnast."

"Yeah, that was the idea and I was almost there."

"I don't meant the best gymnast this year. I mean the best gymnast, ever."

"You're insane."

"Maybe," he said, shrugging, "but I'm not wrong."

"I'm not a ballerina. I'm not built for all that dance stuff. I'm not – I'm not graceful enough."

"I disagree," he said, nodding towards the desk again. "First position, turn out."

This time as her heels crashed together, the turnout was complete, hips open, shoulders back. She was learning.

"Good," he said, moving behind her again. He placed a hand against her arm and then traced the line over her scapula across her back to the other arm. "Your shoulders naturally fall into the correct position. You already walk like a string is pulling from the top of your head into the atmosphere and the line of your neck is exquisite." She tilted her head instinctively, demonstrating his point. "We've discussed your turn out. You are one of the most naturally graceful young women I've ever seen. You were _made_ for all that dance stuff."

He stepped around her so he could look at her in the eye. He wanted her to know he meant every word he said.

"The best gymnast ever?" she asked, eyes flashing at his.

"That's the plan," he said.

"And this plan…I'll be ready by Worlds?"

"If you trust me, if you buy into it one hundred percent, then yes, you'll be ready by Worlds."

"And I'll win?"

"If you don't fall."

"I never fall."

"Then you'll win."

Her eyes held his, searching for even a hint of deceit. Whatever she read in his face obviously satisfied her, because she sat down on the edge of he mother's desk and said, "Okay, explain this plan of yours to me. Vault?"

"A Cheng. Competing the handspring double with your knee is sheer insanity."

"But it's my vault, it's going to be named after me."

"It's too risky."

"Compromise," she said. "I train it through Worlds this year, perform it at Worlds and then I'll give it up and work on the Cheng for next year."

Sasha crossed his arms over his chest. "Done." Somehow he knew right around the time the calendar moved from December to January she would find to reason to continue training that handspring double, but he for now he would pick and choose his battles.

"Good. Bars?"

"A Stalder full to a Van Leeuwen, inbar Stalder to a piked Jaeger, inbar Stalder full into a Tkatchev to a Pak and immediate Stalder half. A toe on shoot the high bar, toe on full pirouette into your dismount," he rattled off the routine he'd designed for her, the one he'd imagined nearly a year ago while watching her perform at Nationals.

"My dismount?"

"A fly-away three and a half twist, if you can get enough height off the bar. A blind landing like that, they'll probably make it a G skill and it'll have your name on it too."

Payson nodded and he could see her fight down the excitement over the routine. "Beam?"

"Most of your skills will remain the same, though I'd like you to upgrade your switch split to a switch ring. We'll just be tinkering with the composition a bit."

"And floor."

"The Red Shoes," he said.

"Never heard of it."

"What happened to trusting me?"

"Tumbling?"

"One and a half to triple, double layout, two and a half to full, a quad turn, triple Y turn, a switch ring to switch split half and finishing with a piked Dos Santos."

"You want me to dismount with the Dos Santos?"

"You'll have to build up your endurance. Lots of cross training. The thin air around here should help, but if you think it's too difficult…" he trailed off.

"You really are crazy."

"I've been called worse."

"I bet." She stared at him again, her clear green eyes open and for the first time since they'd met, trusting. "Why didn't you just tell me all of this before?"

"Maybe I should have. I…I haven't done this in a long time."

"Coached?"

He shook his head and grinned ruefully. "Talked to people."

"About gymnastics."

"About anything."

"Oh."

Her eyes were wide and she tilted her head. Sasha could felt her gaze burning straight through his, seeing past the stoic mask he wore. It was more than a little unnerving.

The sound of feet pounding up the office stairs startled them and they turned towards the door together.

"Sasha? Sorry to interrupt this little powwow, but Cruz just puked her guts out on the vault landing mat."

"Fantastic," Sasha said, running his hand through his hair. "Cleaning supplies?"

Payson rolled her eyes. "In the storage closet. I'll go get them." She moved past Kelly and Sasha followed.

He jogged down the steps and moved out towards Kaylie who was on her hands and knees, her arms shaking with the effort to hold herself up.

"Kelly, get her some water."

Seconds later, KP returned, holding out a cup of water.

"Kaylie, you need to drink a little of this. You're probably dehydrated."

She nodded and slid around onto her butt. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she took a sharp, shuddering breath.

"Breathe slowly, Kaylie, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Don't inhale too quickly or you'll gag again. Here take a sip."

"I found a mop," Payson said, approaching with the mop in one hand and a bucket full of water in the other. She immediately set to work.

"I'll do that, Pay," Kaylie said, between slow sips of water.

"It's fine," Payson said. "I should have talked you out of going anyway."

"I shouldn't have suggested it," Kelly chimed in.

"And I shouldn't have had anything to drink."

Sasha looked between the girls, stunned. Somehow, even with his plans of torturous conditioning followed by an afternoon of mat cleaning shot to hell, he managed to arrive where he wanted the girls to be before training tomorrow.

"Get this mess cleaned up and then you're all dismissed. Get a good night's sleep. We start seven am tomorrow morning."

Payson lifted her eyes from the mat, the mess nearly gone. "Me too?"

"You'll go to the your ballet lesson in the morning and then here in the afternoon."

"Okay."

"Good."

He started back towards the office and smiled to himself. It was just as he thought. His girls were special. Sasha blinked, _his _girls. When had he started thinking of them as his girls? A small knot of panic crept into his stomach. He'd promised himself he wouldn't get attached again. After what happened in Romania, with Amelia he couldn't afford to – to care. He looked back over his shoulder. Kaylie sitting, still sipping at her water, Payson, nose wrinkled as she finished cleaning and Kelly kneeling beside Kaylie, concern creasing her brow.

Damn it. It was too late. He already cared, maybe more than he ever had before.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know, it's been forever, but I'm finally back. I finished my original novel about a month ago and now I'm in the process of trying to find an agent to represent it. So I've been busy with that and all the while I kept trying to rekindle my MIOBI muse and there was nothing, until this afternoon. I got home and started writing and didn't stop. This is the result. Hopefully this means it's back for good!

Thank you all so much for your patience for the last few months.

Review and let me know what you think!

**ETA:** I can't believe I forgot to mention this, but the bars routine Sasha designed for Payson is Aliya Mustafina's from 2010-2011 (aside from the dismount). It is awe inspiring to watch, so if you get a chance check it out!


	7. Chapter 7

The soft tinkling of the piano in the background set Payson's back teeth on edge and the sound of Miss Viola's cane pounding against the hardwood floor of the dance studio made her wince. It had all sounded great when Sasha was explaining it to her. The best gymnast, not just at the Rock or the Olympics; the best gymnast _ever. _

Then the pounding stopped. "Come on. Shoulders back, chest high, come on," the British instructor said, poking her with the stick.

Payson flinched away, resting her hand against the barre.

Tsking, the tall, willowy former prima ballerina, poked at her again. "My great grandmother's got better posture than you _and she's dead_. Alright everyone, I'd like a grand plié in first, second, fourth and fifth."

Sighing and swallowing back the urge to sprint from the room, Payson slid her heels together like Sasha showed her, keeping her spin ramrod straight, pushing her shoulders back and bending her knees into the grand plié.

A heavy sigh at her side had her flinching again.

"Miss Keeler, it has been two weeks of lessons and not a shred of improvement."

She stood and turned towards the crazy ballet lady. "Miss Viola, I _am_ trying…"

"Ah," Miss Viola cut her off, "Tiani, can you show Miss Keeler how to do a grand plié in first position?"

The tiny brunette girl in front of her, no more than eleven years old smirked smugly and demonstrated.

"Voilà."

Payson had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. She'd like to see the little brat do a triple full off a four-inch balance beam.

"Miss Keeler, your turn."

She tried again.

"Oh for the love of all that is holy, don't roll these pigeon toes and keep your heels down."

She was being poked by that stick again, but she tried. _Best gymnast ever_, she told herself.

"You're moving like cement."

"I'm sorry. I'm just not a ballerina."

"That much is obvious."

"Sasha explained to you why I'm here."

"Yes, yes, something about natural ability and the best turn out he's ever seen. There are no naturals in ballet, Miss Keeler; it is an art form that must be felt in every fiber of your being. Every toe, every finger, every eyelash must be displayed perfectly. Not like that gymnastics you do, all that flipping about. It's a sideshow act. I'm not here to train circus freaks, I'm here to train dancers. Now, turn around, to the barre please. Again – go – smile, it's beautiful, _ballet_."

Three hours later, after being poked and prodded over and over again by that stick and Miss Viola's verbal barbs, Payson wandered into the Rock. The only good thing about the day was that her two-week ban on training was lifted and today she could start working on her skills.

"Payson," Kaylie squealed, running at her full speed from across the gym, gripping her arm and squeezing. "Did you hear? Isn't it awesome?"

"Hear what? Kaylie I've been at ballet all morning." Now that was a sentence she never thought she'd utter.

"The Rock has to fundraise for Nationals and you'll never guess what we're doing."

"Urg, I swear if it's another carwash I'm going to kill myself. The guys that show up are always such pervs."

"No, better," Kaylie's eyes danced, her grip tightening, twisting Payson's skin so she had to pull away. "It's a Mother-Daughter Fashion Show."

She rolled her eyes as Kaylie scampered back to the beam. Where the hell was Belov? She had to make sure he knew she wouldn't be participating in a ridiculous fashion show. Worlds were four months away. She didn't have any time to waste.

He was standing at the end of the vault run, watching Kelly Parker do Yurchenko timers. The world champ was upgrading from a Yurchenko one and a half, to a double, but the form issues that plagued her during their junior career were creeping into her technique, making the double sloppy.

Payson stepped next to Sasha as Kelly moved back towards the start of the run.

"How was ballet?"

"Awful. Miss Viola hates me and everything I stand for."

Sasha snorted. "She doesn't hate you. She hates that you're _wasting your time_ on gymnastics when she could turn you into an American Ballet Academy student in less than a year. At least that's the impression I got when I spoke to her this morning."

"Whatever. Look, I'm not doing this ridiculous fashion show. I have to concentrate on my training and since I'm not even going to Nationals…"

"Who said you're not going to Nationals?"

The man was certifiable. "You did, dozens of times."

Crossing her arms over his chest, he shrugged. "I said you wouldn't be competing at Nationals. I never said you weren't going. And you will be participating in the fashion show. In fact, you should consider it _part_ of your training."

"Another part of your plan to make me the best gymnast ever?"

"Something like that. Also, because your mum is already overworked as it is, I told Mrs. Cruz that you'd help her plan the event."

"What?" she shouted at a whisper, not wanting to startle Kelly as she threw a Yurchenko full, working up towards the double.

"Better, Kelly. More power and if your ankles cross again you're headed back to the pit," Sasha instructed, ignoring her.

Payson moved in front of him, forcing him to look her in the eye. "I'm supposed to start training skills again this week. I don't have time to help Mrs. Cruz pick out clothes."

He started down at her silently and she drew her lips into a small pout. She somehow knew in that moment that whatever spare time she had this week would be spent with Kaylie's mom.

"Fine, but then I'm working on tumbling on the tramp strips by Friday."

Sasha arched a brow and narrowed his eyes. "Done."

He agreed way too easily. She had a feeling he'd intended her to be working on the tumbling tramps by Friday anyway, but she allowed herself to call it a victory in this constant back and forth battle they'd engaged in since her surgery.

"Fine. Where you do you want me?" she asked.

He blinked and his brow furrowed.

"I'm here to train," she explained as if he were an idiot. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Right, sorry, stretch out for bars. I want you to build your shoulder strength up on some giants on high bar first."

Kaylie had already rotated to bars by the time she stretched out.

"I'm so glad you're back," Kaylie said as they chalked their hands together.

"Me too."

They watched as Sarah, one of the level tens swung through her bar routine. Kaylie leaned up against the chalk bowl and stared up towards the still rings where Carter was working.

"Kaylie," Payson said, nudging her when she saw Sasha frowning in their direction from across the gym.

"I'm so excited for the fashion show. I can't wait to find a dress that totally sets him on fire."

Payson sighed. If Kaylie put half the focus she had on Carter into her gymnastics she could easily challenge for the National Championship.

"I've decided I'm ready to sleep with him."

"What?"

"I love him. I know he's the guy I'm going to spend the rest of my life with."

"Kaylie, that's…" Insane. Stupid. Ridiculous.

"Nope," Kaylie interrupted, smiling. "Don't even try to talk me out of it. I know you don't get it, Pay, but you have to trust me. He's the one."

"Right," Payson said, seeing the level ten dismount from the bars. "You mind if I work first?"

"Go ahead," Kaylie said, her attention returning to Carter while she made a show of digging back into the chalk bowl.

Payson stood at the low bar and rested her hands against the chalked up strip of Plexiglas. Rubbing the grips back and forth across the bar she smiled. This was where she belonged. It felt familiar under her hands and she realized it was the same circumference as the barre she used in ballet class. Miss Viola would go into apoplexy if she ever saw one of her perfect ballerinas doing what Payson intended to do in a moment.

She pushed her weight against the bar and leapt off the floor. Flipping over the bar she folded her body in half, swinging around to stand up, falling towards the high bar. Sasha asked for clean and simple giants and that's what she gave him, huge circles, stretching out her shoulders, keeping her lines long and her toes pointed.

"Good," she heard from the mat below. "Just a layout fly away now."

Payson obeyed, releasing the bar after her last giant and floating down to the mat.

"The ballet is helping," Sasha said, as she caught her breath, unable to keep the maniacal smile from spreading across her face. That's what she missed. That gymnastics high, that super human feeling nothing else could duplicate.

She shrugged. "Whatever."

"Not whatever," he said, "your lines are ten times better than they were before your surgery. How does your back feel?"

For the first time, since the surgery, she smiled thinking about her back. Bars routines had become increasingly more difficult when the pain grew worse, but now she felt nothing, no sharp pain, no dull ache.

"Alright, that's enough for today."

"What? But I…"

"Payson, let's take it one thing at a time, okay? We have four months. I know patience isn't your strong suit, but you promised to trust me."

Inhaling sharply through her nose, she nodded. "Fine."

"Good. Mrs. Cruz is up in the office waiting for you."

* * *

><p>Sasha grinned when her mouth drew together in a pout. It was a very good thing Payson Keeler had no idea how beautiful she was. One day she was going to make some man her willing slave just by pouting at him like that.<p>

"Go on," he urged. "The sooner you get all the details ironed out, the sooner you can get back to training."

She turned and stomped away towards the locker room muttering about stupid wastes of time, but he wasn't worried about her anymore. Even though Viola's reports were less than encouraging, his plan was well on its way.

The other girls on the other hand…

"Kaylie, standing and staring is not an Olympic sport," he barked, making the girl still standing at the chalk bowl, rather than swinging on the bars, jump. Quickly averting her eyes from the mop-headed young man working on the rings.

Carter Anderson, men's National team member, rings specialist and the source of Kaylie Cruz's constant distraction.

He knew Marty had a strict no dating rule and Sasha thought it was a load of crap, but maybe for Kaylie it wasn't a bad idea. He frowned as she rushed through her bar set. They were just a month out from Nationals and she was regressing.

She dismounted, the double pike she'd been doing since he arrived. They'd worked on a double layout in the bar pit, but she wasn't even close to landing it. Where was her desire – her passion for the sport? The only thing she seemed to be interested in was Carter Anderson.

The question he faced now, did he interfere?

Kaylie stood on the mat, waiting for his critique. Sasha made his decision.

"You're a delightful performer, Kaylie," he began, trying to find the right words. "Delightful performers don't win Olympic medals. You're not a little girl anymore. You need – self-definition, third chakra. Do you know what I mean?"

She smiled again and shrugged. "Not really."

"I didn't think so. Well, then, that double layout we've been working on as your dismount. It has to be ready by Nationals."

A stricken look flew across her face. At least there was that much, self-awareness was something he could work with. "What if it's not?"

"Then you won't be going to Nationals."

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "What? You can't do that."

"No, what I cannot do is send a girl to Nationals whose routines belong in a level ten state meet, not the National Championships. I don't know what's holding you back, but you need to fix it, understand?"

Kaylie bit her lip, her eyes darting towards the rings _again_. "Yes."

"Good. Break for lunch and then I want you on floor with Kelly."

Running a hand through his hair, Sasha moved up towards the office. He found Kim sitting at her desk, shuffling through what looked like travel arrangements for their trip to Boston and a stack of papers teetering at the edge of the desk with fundraising information.

"I asked Payson to help Mrs. Cruz with the fashion show," he said, taking a seat across from her at his desk.

"I heard," Kim said, smirking at him. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"She needs a distraction before Nationals and it'll help with her training."

Tilting her head in confusion, Kim asked, "Her training?"

"Payson needs to get in touch with a side of herself she's uncomfortable with, unless she does, all of her training won't do her any good."

"She performs for people all the time."

Sasha nodded. "As an athlete, not as a girl. She equates that feminine side with weakness."

"Weakness?"

"It's why she was so resistant to the ballet lessons. Why they aren't really having the desired effect yet. She needs to harness the power she could hold over an audience and in order to do that, she needs to embrace the fact that she's a beautiful young woman."

Kim snorted. "You said that to her?"

"Not in so many words, but…"

"Don't, she'll think you're insane."

"She already thinks that."

"I can't imagine why," Kim said, smiling at him gently. "So this assignment, helping Ronnie with the fashion show is an attempt to, how did you put it…" A soft laugh escaped from her throat.

"Laugh all you want. I'm right about this. You'll see."

* * *

><p>She felt like a gigantic, underdressed freak leaning up against the wall of the formal dress section of a store she'd never even heard of before, while Kaylie's mom directed several store employees around. She had everything under control. Payson didn't have to be there, but she knew there would be hell to pay from Sasha if she left early.<p>

"Okay, I think that's everything we'll need for the others. Let's get started on you."

Payson blinked at the tiny woman standing in front of her, a near replica of her best friend twenty years into the future.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. That's the perk of being here, Payson, you get first dibs on the best dresses. I pulled a few aside for you."

"Oh, I umm…"

"Let's go," Ronnie said, grabbing her hand and dragging her into a changing room. "This one first." She held out a small pink handful of fabric. "Let's make the most of those curves and don't you roll your eyes at me, young lady. I've been dying to get a hold of you for _years_."

"Mrs. Cruz, I don't think…"

"Less talking, Payson." She shooed her into the changing room and shut the door.

Studying the dress, Payson grimaced and held it against her body. Strapless, fan-flippin-tastic. Was this part of Sasha's plan too? Get her into a dress, make her into a girly girl capable of doing all the things he wanted her to do as a gymnast? He was so deluded. Stubborn, thickheaded, arrogant ass, thought he was so smart. Ballet, yoga, a fashion show, did he think he was being subtle?

Stripping off her t-shirt and jeans, she slid into the dress, frowning as the straps of her bra showed. She slipped them down off her shoulders and tucked them in, before zipping up the dress and looking into the mirror.

"Wow."

Mrs. Cruz opened the door, totally uninvited. She smiled. "Hang on," she said, reaching up and pulling the band from Payson's hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders. "There. You, my dear, are a total bombshell."

Swallowing, she tilted her head, studying her reflection. She blinked and ran a hand through her hair, tousling it like she'd seen movie stars do.

"Damn it," she muttered. "He was right."

"Ooh, he?" Mrs. Cruz said, smiling widely, eyebrows lifting in shock. "Anyone in particular?"

Had she said that out loud? Crap. "No, just…it's nothing." A six foot one inch nothing who thought he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Right, of course, _nothing_. Just like Kaylie and Carter, right?"

Payson's head snapped around. "How did you know?" And how much did Mrs. Cruz know? Did she know that Kaylie was going to have sex with him? Should she tell her? She couldn't, that would be a total betrayal of Kayile's trust, but…

"Please, Payson, a mom always knows. So, who is he?" The question drew her from the hundreds of thoughts swirling in her mind.

"Who?"

"The boy who was right?"

"Oh, no, there isn't any boy." Which wasn't exactly a lie, Sasha Belov was no boy. "Just – Sasha said something about my training earlier today and I just figured out that he was right and he gets really smug when he's right about something. Worse than Marty ever did."

Mrs. Cruz flinched, but then shook herself, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes sliding across her face. "Honey, that's a trait all men share. Get used to it."

Payson grimaced. "I don't think I need to try on any more dresses, I think this one is…"

"Perfect," Mrs. Cruz finished for her and nodded. "It really is. I had my eye on it for you the moment I saw it and for you mom, the plum chiffon."

She held the hanger aloft and Payson grinned. Her mom was going to freak when she saw the dress she had to wear, but if Sasha was going to force her to walk a runway, then Payson was going to drag her mother down it with her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So I'm sure by now you all know that _Make it or Break it_ has officially been cancelled by ABCFamily. Honestly, I'm actually sort of relieved. At least now I can live in my fantasy world where Payson sweeps the gold medals and her and Sasha get their happily ever after. And for everything else, there's always fic!

To answer a question of a very astute reviewer: Yes, I've seen _Dance Academy _and while I'd seen the _Red Shoes_ prior to watching an episode, the use of it here is a tiny little nod of my head to that series. You guys, seriously, if you've never seen it, you will LOVE that show. It's on Netflix Instant and I believe Nickelodeon is showing it right now as well. Just a fantastic show and I think MIOBI and its writers could have learned a lot from its storytelling and the quality of its production, but I digress…

Please leave me a review and let me know what you think of this chapter. More to come soon, promise!


	8. GAME SET MATCH is Live!

Hi everyone,

As many of you know, the reason I stopped writing MIOBI fanfiction was that I was working on my own original work, GAME. SET. MATCH. I'm so excited to announce that GSM is out there in the world and ready to read!

Holly Sorensen, the creator of MIOBI was even kind enough to read it and write a blurb for the novel! Here's what she had to say:

"Everyone is playing for keeps both on and off the court in Jennifer Iacopelli's addictive first novel. If you like passionate girls who put it all on the line, hot men who are hard to read, and friendship that's about more than gossip and clothes, look no further than the Outer Banks Tennis Academy. There you'll find three rising stars, whose love, sweat and tears will have you cheering from page one. I can't wait for the next book!"

So if you loved NJYbA, Lost and Found, Chasing Glory and my other MIOBI fics, I think you'll love GSM too! The reviews so far have been awesome and one reader even compared it to MIOBI.

If you head to Amazon or Barnes & Noble's websites and type in my real name, "Jennifer Iacopelli" (what jci stands for, Jennifer Carolyn Iacopelli).

I want to thank you all for all of your support over the last few years!

Thanks so much!

JCI


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